REFLECTIONS ON DEATH

Death, the intangible, mysterious thing

Not only the cessation of life here

A thing

The Mexicans dance

With half their face painted like a skull

On Dia de los Muertos

The Day of the Dead

Some call it Completing the Circle of Life

As in the Mayan prayer

“We come into the world, and we go out of the world

“Remember that every morning”

I used to think only of the afterlife

And so there was no death

We think of those we loved

And go on without their company

Can’t talk to them anymore

Probably around twenty-five or thirty years till

My death.  I can see it, sometimes.

Till I complete the circle of life

This world is all I know

Despite Swedenborg’s visions

Or the five experiences of the Indigenous man I heard

One doesn’t want to let go of what one knows

Let go of what I know

The Indigenous man knew

Things look different if my life continues

If I sit next to my grandfather, next to a flowing river that is all love

Consequences matter more, matter infinitely more

Than if death ends it

Then the world looks different

When death is a palpable thing

The mysterious dance of the Mexicans

That will be for me in twenty-five to thirty or so years

NETI-NETI

So many people want

Life to be sweetness and light—

In fact, saccharine sweet delight.

The eventuality of death repressed

As consciousness sleeps into unconscious;

Care only for affairs here comprises awareness,

Carefully, fearfully forgetful of death’s despair: the buzz-kill.

Others preoccupy themselves with

The eventuality of death and

Dour and gloom diffuse through a joyless disposition, joyless life.

Some say a middle way makes of life what it is

Neither blind nor dark

Enlightened by the happiness we find now, by knowing.

To me meaning is in passionate undertaking,

When in all one takes on the stakes are mortal:

The joy in work, creation, recreation, the music we hear

The clothes or jewelry we wear.

The footfalls we leave behind us, remain in us

Walking into time today; waking in time

Death and the Harvest Cycle and Family

Family and the land

And death and the harvest cycle

Farms ad family farms and neighbors

Dinner and grandparents and daughters and their sons

And friends, beloved ones

And love and connections and community

And communities and the land

And death and the harvest cycle

 

Hand-hewn beams of a hundred-year-old barn

Abandoned, unused, left-over straw

A graveyard, a tombstone, names of the deceased and living

Winter, fields harvested, mud and corn stubble

Lunch and new connections

And family and meeting parents

A hundred-year-old church

Now a theatre and art gallery

 

An abandoned farm house

A new condo and a senior manor

Change and death and new beginnings

Meeting new people and new family

Renewing old connections—teachers, family friends

And the land and family farms

And the harvest cycle and death and family