Just checked the mail and found the mail-woman ran over a prairie dog. I buried him in the yard and gave prayers and set a ring of stones on top of his burial site to symbolize the turning of the wheel, the changing of forms as our paths continue.
Since he was newly dead, seeing him wasn’t as upsetting and though I tried not to look, I had a mild curiosity over what I glimpsed, his perfect smooth oval organs, wondering which ones they were, and noticing how the ants and flies immediately understood him as food. Once what’s inside the body is outside, it’s all fair game, food on the earth. And as I put his lifeless form in the earth’s hole and covered him with dirt, it made sense the whole dust to dust, earth to earth idea.
Here I am, a circulating-liquids and –energies creature burying a stilled-system creature, but I could still see the pattern and how it relates to me too. If I’d found him later, once his death was older and other processes more engaged, it would have been harder to scoop him up and bury him, and I knew that, and that was a little interesting too.
It’s all still sad, which is expected, but what was interesting were the ways it didn’t jolt me, the ways it made sense in terms of existence's circular metamorphoses; dark moon to bright moon, to dark moon to bright moon. In the year's newly returned warmth, I stand in evidence of the cycles.
Blessings, dear little creature, from one to another.