This is a 13 verse poem – a contribution to finding a proper perspective on death so that we can realise the deathless. The condition of the self saddled with desire obstructs a meditation and reflection on death with all the insights than can emerge.
In Praise of Death. A Poem
Not vile of war
not endurance
of pain, sickness
nor desires aim
nor underfoot
nor poison’s purchase
nor sudden loss of.
A simple death
everyday, ordinary
without drama
in bed, loved ones around
kettle on, nothing special
in sleep
mindful
noting last breath
alone, content.
I walk past my grave
I can see behind me
a small bump in the earth
formed in the forgotten
spaces in my mind.
Oh, the final song
heralds a full day
no more shadows
cast upon the dawn
Illiterates crave
their own legacies
as if the self had
importance attached
to its demise.
A fading of fire
nowhere left to burn
where all events
cool out, a sublime
finality of breathing
praise be to heaven.
Life is not death
death is not life
that is not this
this is not that
never twain shall meet.
Death is nowhere
life is not ahead
nor found behind
i am not found
not here, not there
nor in between.
Never need to know
if I am or am I not
the blink of an eye
says what matters
without weight of tears
to then wipe away.
A bird of prey spies
outside heaven’s door
curious field mouse
wanders into field
wings flutter above
facing the wrong way.
Old thoughts form a
an imposter on life
an imposter on death
such thoughts fade
peace finds the soul.
in blink of a lifetime.
Never come to terms
with life and death
insubstantial pairs
mindful of both offers
a tangible relief to
presence and absence.
Ancient utters loud
when I am here
death is not here
when death is here
I am not here.
No fusion of both
free at last
final divorce
birds of a feather
feel the breeze
free at last.
Deathless reveals.
