The Ostrich and the Giraffe

I could bury my head in the warm embrace
of Mother Earth’s sandy breast.
My body exposed, but my head is safe.
To fate I leave the rest.

I could stretch my head up into the sky,
above the clouds, where the eagles fly.
My heart stands below, my mind soars above.
One tear for wonder, one tear for love.

Death approaches swiftly,
I must choose either down or up.
I’ll die either way, but I still may
have a say in how I end up.

To look inside and discover oneself
is a gift to the lucky few.
To look outside and be amazed at life
is something I don’t often do.

Here in this moment, when my time seems up,
I still have a quick moment or two
to exercise my power, my right, my choice,
to act on the world anew.

I leave my mark, a head-shaped hole,
in the lowest cloud in the sky.
I die standing tall and proud on my feet,
wind in my hair, the sun in my eye.