Reclaimed

Birth upon the forest floor

The distant snows of Rainier 
Were the last thing he saw 
Just a lean over the ridge
A step too far 
Before he met the sky 
And for a moment he flew 
Like a bird 
Or maybe an angel 
Before the come down
Into a sea of pine

And when they found his body
It stank of death, or maybe life
The soil around him black
From pooling liquid rot 
Atop his body crawled white
Worms eating of his flesh
Grown upon him fungi 
Springing up in multitudes 
And from his death on the forest floor 
Came forth a thousand births