Bloodmud - Prose

Bloodmud

I want to be just like myself when I grow up

I don’t want to just remember the grass
Tickling my shins
In the summertime,
I want it to remember it all the time
Even when I am walking on frozen razorblades
So that when I lose an inch
(Due to the razorblades)
I can still feel the grass on my knee
Only now
An inch higher than before

Maybe someday
When life has done its work

And I have done mine

The grass will be over my head
(Due to the razorblades)
And I will melt into the bloodmud
And the dirt parts will reclaim me
And welcome me home
And tell me about their lives while I was way up there
And it will be a good reunion.

Until then
I will walk in such a way
That I remember that in my body
Flows the royal lineage
Of the dirt under the razors
I will remember the language of the grass
Tickling my knees
Encouraged by a smiling sky
To see
To be
At peace
At now
Smiling now in summertime with tall grass
Smiling now in wintertime with the frozen razorblades
Smiling as I become the bloodmud.

--Eric Marley

January 2013