Sky Burial
Kali Ma Troma Rigtsal Khadro

My life is the story of nourishment
For all beings
For the winged ones
They fly away from this feast

Tearing away the meat of the dharma from its bones
They eat to satisfaction
All come to feast
Subtle beings, people, buddhas, dakinis, demons
The dakinis eat my raw red fleshy heart
The buddhas sing mantras and drink the red essence
Beings from all the six realms nourished to every fulfillment
The mysterious interaction of the offerer, offering and those offered to as one
That is this woman’s story

Where was I born? The cremation grounds
Where did I live? On the offering platter
What was my life like? The Sky Burial
What did I do? I consumed and

I was consumed
What else is there to say?
Everything else is just appearance

My red body arranged as a mandala offering
The songs of mantras resounding
Sky Burial of an American Dakini

Existence consumes me
Day by day
Moment by moment
All that remains from the feast is the sky of my nothingness
Within which the winged ones fly

Everything becomes what it takes in
So too
At the Sky Burial
The Beings
Take in and become
The body of the Mother