Every day, every hour, the clock ticks. And whether we like it or not, every breath takes us closer to our deaths. Harsh, I know. But true. Don’t freak out. I have a point.
Since we will not live forever (at least in our current bodies, on the Earth plane), this brings a sense of urgency to anyone who cares. If you don’t care, and you don’t feel like you have much to do in this life besides feeding yourself and finding somewhere to kill some time on the weekends, then it’s all cool.
If you do want to make some waves, express yourself, and crank into some awesomeness, then tuning into the ticking clock once in awhile tends to bring some perspective to the situation. Especially as we get older.
Although I’m really not the morbid type, I was intrigued when my friend Jen told me she was penning a poem about Death in her writing workshop. I jumped all over that and wrote one myself. Because I’m all about poetry. And staring our greatest fears in the face tends to wake us up. And get our asses in gear.
from the other side
if death were a thing what would she be?
what would she define and where would she draw her lines?
for me, for you and for everything else that breathes
(with ease or with trouble), her wiles are undeniable
call her a bitch but she is your lover, whether you want her or not.
she will taunt you from the day you first meet
rattle around in the background, make sounds in your youth
but when she touches your people her voice will resound.
you will try to move mountains, tame lions and talk sweet
but she is complete. she doesn’t care. her secrets are near but
you’ll never know which night she’ll kiss you, unexpected
(or dressed for the ball), maybe you can stall her—
seduce her with lies (when you talk to yourself)
but she melts every soul that ever dreamed
she applies her special pressure to every story
and every glory that you might attain during
your days will mean less than nothing
after her calling. but that doesn’t matter.
these things seem to push everything.
but that’s just your self centered reasons.
this girl’s kiss holds mysteries that you cannot fathom.
cannot imagine. and even if you could,
it would not change your earth story. mornings
with strawberries. music
that sings the sweetness in your heart.
and when, at last, you melt into her it will be pleasure
a million times better than sex, and pain so complex,
a million times worse than when your lover lied. when
your mother cried your name with blame and disappointment
it will ring horns of love louder than you have ever heard, burn
you at your core. demand the attention of planets. forever
yet not for a second.
so don’t be fooled. death knows every letter of your name.
she will haunt you and torture you but
she will never lie. and you will not know her face until you see her
from the other side.
Do you fear death? Why?
How does your consciousness of your death affect your life?