To Bear Calmly
To some unfortunates the grave demands
statements be made as a coupling with
the life lived, the time misspent . . . with
most of us, however, the grave demands
a silence. It thinks -- with this demand of
noiselessness -- that it is enforcing a proper
respect; but it's clear the grave has not
yet learned the diligence with how human
beings will misinterpret anything that is
not in accord with their beliefs. This gentle
silence, then, becomes a proof that we will
live forever and there's never any need to
think on such matters, all is calm and quiet,
until the cacophony of disease or accident
invades the ear to remind us that silence only
enables us to bear calmly before the night.
Artists note:
Dylan Thomas (1914-1953), Welsh poet, commenting on poetry --
"I like to think of it as statements made on the way to the grave."
He died, at age 39, in New York City on November 9, 1953 of
pneumonia surely induced by acute alcoholism.
A Prayer of the Universe
Courage is that which seeks to conquer
the fears who assault those of us who
carry the flesh, the breathing ones who
live always with the onslaught. Courage
seeps into us, like a prayer of the universe,
finding our hearts to whisper how we are
meant to be. Courage is in the air, but not
always in proper doses. It comes when
bidden, yet not always, and at times it's
difficult to recall the proper chants to
tempt it forth. Yet it is visible all around
us, only the trick is in how to inhale it
deeply to the bottom of our lungs. Once
there, though, it transforms any fear into
strength, and we can come to understand
there is no fear more potent than our innate
skills to breathe it away . . . by using this
prayer who comes down to us graciously.
Begins to Blur
I once thought it was easy to tell
the difference between living and
dead . . . the living are those who
do not require constant prayer; in
my case prayers are exhortations
to leave alone the ears of those I
would think to badger. Whereas the dead
are those who do not require constant
inhalation of the flesh; in my case
flesh is as mysterious as prayer.
Yet this frequently gets rather mixed up . . .
I wonder if prayers are those songs for
which the living always yearn, while
flesh is what the dead eventually come
around to keenly desire once again; so the
distinctions begin to blur . . . no longer easy.
Artist's note:
Thales (circa 600 BCE), Greek scientist and philosopher,
stated there is no essential difference between the
living and the dead; when someone tried to nettle him
by asking why he chose life instead of death, he answered,
"Because there is no difference."
(Copyright - All Rights Reserved by Ward Kelley - No reproduction without express permission from the author)
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Divine Murder: A Novel
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