Some people write to tell a story, while for some the purpose is to dispel a myth. Perhaps for most it is for reasons of posterity, passing knowledge to future generations while organizing their thoughts, questions, and intuitions into a better understanding. No matter the reason for which it begins, the end result is to communicate how our interactions amongst people effects the connectivity throughout communities.
There are topics we choose to acknowledge and those we discard. Particular subjects give us pause for being taboo due to our lack of understanding and respect. In order to gain understanding of something we must first acknowledge it, then speak of it to allow us the process to cope and come to terms with that which seems so finite.
Death seems to me that which frightens most.
The funny thing about death is you can’t live without it. It is everywhere. It surrounds us. You can face it or fear it, love it or hate it. You can try to run from it, chase it, or even allow it to chase you, but you can never hide from it. Eventually it seeks us out like an old friend pining for reunion, beckoning everyone and everything of this Earth with no exceptions. Neither morbid nor morose, if you were born, you will die. This one simple fact has captured our fascinations and spurred numerous theologies which attempt to rationalize, explain, and ultimately come to terms with it. Some are trained to live in fear of it, born trying to stave off eternity while grappling for a formula of longevity. But, there are others who learn to greet that old friend as someone they have known and recognized since childbirth, with gratitude and respect.
Human mortality rates stay relatively consistent throughout the ages, but there may be times we might feel more riddled with the presence of death within our personal circles than at others. As time continues its fervent progression and we step deeper into new calendar years, we can choose to leave it behind and not dwell on only the passing, but of the knowing. We might not shed its grief entirely, but we go on living.
I am death, and I've come for you.
I shall not wait, though you beckon my mercy.
Being life’s final prophecy,
I am never full.
Fear me not, if you have given your all.
Into your final slumber,
the time has come for you to fade.
Find solace in this your waning moon.
Weep for you they should not,
For you shed not a tear,
As the pleasure of your flesh,
Finds you no longer here.
Do not cry for us, or morn our loss,
While we lay him to rest,
In a sea they call The Andaman.
Although now we may suffer,
If not forever, but for a great long while.
Until we are privileged to meet again,
What can bare us not to pass?
From out of this misery we shall grow,
And make our peace forgiving.
If from ashes all need rise,
Then why are you not smiling?
So too we shall, as friend or foe,
Find death amongst the living.
Do not go heartless to your grave
As once upon our times will come,
We shall all be paid the visit
The importance lost not on one.
Sometimes there may be violence,
Shattering our morbid peace,
Do not dread the day,
or forsake the journey,
As we are all equal in the final count.
Fair a life we all must find,
Before being cast amongst the waves,
For those who never learn to live,
It is for them we all should weep.
Do not bid me a fond farewell,
Nor engrave a tomb, lay flowers in wreaths.
In neither dirge, eulogy, or requiem
Lay me down to that restful sleep,
The peaceful slumber of the years.