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Death
28 December 2004, I buried my mother. As I stood at the grave my thoughts united with the millions grieving over the loss of loved ones at this time. So many of us united through loss.
Phoenix
Fires of war burning
Corpses of loved ones Smoking poison of industry
Choking our lifeblood
Greed with no bounds
Raping, stealing
What is ours
Violent disregard
For our brothers and sisters
Numbs our feelings
Cold indifference
Freeze generosity
A world unfit for our humanity.
Reduced to ashes
The splendour of hope
Immortal love stirs
Within the ashes of our death
To rise time and again
Within the human soul
With dazzling blaze of hue
Death brings a time of reflection. A time of looking back along the path of the one that had passed away from our concrete based reality. You look back at how that person touched your life. At the interweaving of the paths. Then the sudden end of the thread broken, the pattern uncompleted. I pick up the thread and find the thread not broken, its continuity just invisible. Its thread leading into myself united with the pattern I am weaving.
"She who would gain the prize of a newer birth Must seek it in these lands where death hold sway" De Ave Phoenice - Lanctantius (?)
I am alive. Death confronts me with the question, so clearly; "What makes life worth living?" What is really important to the essence of Life - living? Within the ashes of our loved ones, our spirits are urged to rise like the Phoenix, with renewed resolve to live life to the fullest. Not spill a precious drop of that which is life. In deep appreciation of the spectrum of life that we share this planet with. As Winston Churchill said in 1953…
"We and all nations stand at this hour in human history before the portals of supreme catastrophe, or measureless reward."
