I am just back from a couple of weeks of vacation. It is hard to believe July is racing to a finish. I was at a beautiful NH lake and was able to share time and space with family and friends, eat great food, talk about great ideas and thoughts, write poetry, finish my exams, and enjoy time away from the regular routine of home.

This seventh month of my journey with “A Year to Live” is supposed to be about creating a place to die and leave this world peacefully. Creating a shrine of what my life is about has been wonderful. I have flowers and books that have helped me think clearly. I have candles and a Buddha, a crucifix and a mirror, quotes and words important to me. I don’t really have photos at the shrine areas (yes, there is more than one) because I already have so many photos of my friends and family around. I feel pretty unattached to things and people right now. The shrines, in some weird way, feel like grounding places for me. I can notice that I am here and of a much greater experience and universe at the same time. It feels so simple and freeing. . .a celebration really.

Here’s a draft of a poem I wrote last week. I think it works for month seven.

Nobody knows
I’ve died this year,
that my body is returning to the earth,
slipping into the water of the miracle.
Mile after mile, no longer dipping just a toe
to check the temperature
of this pleasure.
My head is pointing toward the grave.
My feet walking away from home.
I have begun living in code—the one
where I can rock in the boat of quiet hours,
sealing my inner harbor,
safe from any storm.

There is no more trying to surprise God.
The aspects of Eve that live in my days
and in my nights,
in my blood and in each of the bones
of my ribs, each surrounding and guarding
my heart. . .
These pronounce each syllable,
each beat loud and clear.

I am a woman who has turned the corner
and can let go of the mystery. Instead,
I know I am the mystery.
I have understood with each conversation
the new language I speak.
I alone know the power of these words.
I awake with symbols of birds
and fish etched into my skin,
and the flowers—
the lily and the lotus bloom
in the glorious sound of the music
flowing from my soul.

This birth, from the child curled within,
stretches and offers her hand in thanksgiving
toward the opening universe.