Zywa
My table
There is a shortage of chairs
around my table, in the house
for the cousins who died
young, the old family
members and the friends from everywhere
who stayed to live here
in absent presence
letting me experience
warmth, cold and wind intensely
on the heartbeat of the Force
in my body, in my meetings
at my table in the house
of my awareness, my serious
adventure of giving and taking
they wished for me
and that I will wish for you:
that death is not the end
that life goes on
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