This was inspired by a poem I read on hellopoetry.com by Cheyenne, I think the poem is quite beautiful. TW death- I see a lot of roadkill and vultures throughout the week, the roadkill makes me so sad but knowing that a beautiful vulture will swoop down and give those poor creatures new life instead of letting them lay there and rot brings me some joy.
Here’s the poem, again it is not mine, I found it on hellopoetry.com by Cheyenne, the link is at the bottom.
Vultures
Vultures are the holiest creatures,
Tending with honor to the dead.
Bowed low to kiss the corpse,
With death covered wings and bare head.
They whisper to the frigid flesh,
Of words we could never hear, nor see.
“Your old name is not your own.
This dying earth; Not your king.
So forget the seeds that you have sown,
For I rename you “everything.”
Click to read the poem and comment...