Reincarnation

[ray miller]

Some days I imagine it might really happen:
an orifice oozing with ectoplasm,
Dorises with messages that we can’t fathom;
transmigration’s been the fashion since ages ago
when Buddhists could make it to the sixth Bardo
or lose their many selves in Limbo.
You don’t think so?
Of course, it’s never on the news, YouTube or Skype,
not the kind of repeats you see on both sides
but something caught in the corner of an eye.

Like shortly after my sister-in-law passed on
my wife sat outside a Melbourne restaurant
where they’d fitted this special netting
to protect the food from birds pecking.
Yet a bird of one species, reputed to be shy,
had gained entrance and fed at a table nearby.
Then back home when she took our dog and children
to a play park in West Malvern, England,
the birds went mad, chattering, swooping,
flying off at crazy angles and then regrouping,
spooking the dog who found its way inside the park,
climbed the steps of the slide, slid down and barked.
Her sister loved birds. My wife loves birds.
Quod erat demonstrandum – the truth is revealed in tandem.

Now, nobody would think of me as spiritual,
it’s the kind of thing I’ve always ridiculed;
but assuming that I drop dead first
I’m planning to come back as a bird.
A bird who’d be useful to my wife,
but I can’t decide which one would be right
to express my love and gratitude,
not just scare dogs and steal food.
A peacock, perhaps, but all those eyes
are likely to make her paranoid;
a songbird to soothe her when she’s restless,
a chicken to lay her eggs for breakfast;
a mynah to call her mind to attention
when she’s perched on the brink of dementia.
Rook or raven, chaffinch, she likes a chat;
a cock – she’s probably had enough of that.
Penguins have always made her laugh
and when she’s bored I could be a lark;
starlings, sparrows, robins, pigeons;
I’m not used to making decisions,
so I left the final word to the missus
and asked her what bird I reminded her of,
what to come back as when I’ve shuffled off?
Straight from the neck she said Albatross.

[NotQuiteSure]

Hi ray,
enjoyed the read (lines 2-3 in particular) but ... I don't think you need the first two verses. Verse one is a bit confusing, mixing Spiritualism and religion (an 'afterlife' as opposed to 'reincarnation'), and verse two depends entirely on its last line (and that's a long way to go for very little). Verse three gets the job done (but could do with a better title).

Regards, Not

.

[ray miller]

Thanks, not. Disagree about verse 2 but I take your point about the opening verse and title. I shall call it After Life, I think.

[Macavity]

V3 had me chuckling. How much contextual preamble? Certainly would miss the last two lines of S2.

[NotQuiteSure]

I shall call it After Life, I think.

"Soul Searching" ?

[bjondon]

Hi Ray,
just reinforcing really - the chaos of S2 brilliantly stage managed - it works for me to plunge straight in there.
Title? -'The Question'

Jules

[ray miller]

Thanks all. The events in the 2nd stanza did happen. Of course, what you make of them is another matter. I wonder now about "Tell It To The Birds" as a title.