After a day of heavy pruning, our beloved mature mango trees stand as amputees. I could not bear to photograph it. It is the end of years of dappled light in our sacred orchard sanctuary. Where will the squirrels play? 

It is also the day after the day before, sacrificing a lamb for meat to feed a multitude of hunger and the microbes of the compost. 

The loss of lamb, limb and light release a flow of past and current grief. 

I mark the sorrow by eating the last yellow sapote minus a bite of some bird’s breakfast. I chew slowly, fruit, seeds and swallow all.

This is how it is. Love is more than we bargained for. 

Life and bereavement

locked in love

We die a little each day

as we live and breathe 

Soul sieves and sifts

particular particulates

extruded through living 

partaking shaping making

every thing matter

in death, in life, infinitum

Every thing matters