Before I Fly Away

When death comes to find me
I want to be ready like I am today,
aching to be like the birds
hopping in the snow
to find one small black seed at a time.

There are no words
for this gratitude
that is covered in a shell
and must be cracked open
with my wisest self;
a curious and hungry beak
waiting for communion.

If all I have to give
is the love I have been given,
it will be enough
to turn to my friends and lovers
and say “Come. Eat what is so very good.”
before I fly away.