Written upon the untimely death of a classmate's father
Morose crowds and drooping faces In a sad world full of blues; Neon
hearts and black suitcases, Glowing showers of painful hues.
A
thousand lights adorn our way On the staircase to heaven's call. With
heavy hearts drenched in grey We escalate to grim recall.
In
a courtyard of dying orchids A boulevard of roses grows. We die
our deaths and leave our kids Like roses among winds that blow.
We
add some sugar to a pinch of spice To sweeten the buds of our life's
palate. When life goes mute, truth finds its voice, Revealing
our life's true palette.
Today, tomorrow. No one knows When
we die, at whose behest. With each mournful day that goes Let us
strive to give our best.
The bougainvillea now spreads abloom Like
a warm touch to a shivering face. Maybe all in life is not in gloom. Maybe
there's life in death's embrace.
Mythology and hypotheticals aside, there is life after death. My father passed over when I was just four and my mother passed over this past October. They are both gone, but life goes on - in me.
Death and dying and life after death have always been fascinating for man.
I love the analogy of roses in the wind. Despite rain, windstorms, and the death that comes with the change of seasons, there is always a rebirth and a renewal as a new rose blossoms into being.
If nothing else, perhaps our state of consciousness travels onward to a higher plane of understanding. Perhaps, "death" as we know it is really liberation for the soul.
Personally speaking, if I were a rose, I would throw my petals to the wind, dance naked in the rain, hop a whirly breeze, and dance like a dervish into the sunset.
I think our sorrows come from being trapped in the prison of our earthy bodies. Once released from this prison, the soul is free to follow its path to spiritual awakening and illumination.
A drop of water becomes vapor, which is invisible, yet vapor materializes into billowing clouds, and from clouds rain falls back to earth, forming river torrents and eventually merging into the sea. Has the drop of water died along the way? No, it undergoes a new expression at each stage. Likewise, the idea that I have a fixed body locked in space and time is a mirage. Any drop of water inside my body could have been ocean, cloud, river, or spring the day before. I remind myself of this fact when the bonds of daily life squeeze too tight.
Oft I wonder what is the point of giving life if we only succumb to death, is life but a mere passage from soul back to soul. The title is passionately sublime. And yes I do believe also there is life beyond. Perhaps even more so than in the fleshly realm. I also believe our human responsibility is to pass on legacy. Events can bring out the most emotionally charged writing and this poem is a paradigm of such. Some have pointed out chronological order but this piece is like a river that flows from the depths of emotionally charged feelings or better yet roses cascading on the currents of the wind. Poetry (to me) is not always sequential. As is I think it's a beautiful dedication.
I find V. Tassel's review very helpful in perspective of your poem.. Again I must say you have an indelible sense of using your vocabulary. I'm now a fan :) Great work.
I like to think of life as an adventure and so it will be in death. The sad tone to this poem but hopeful ending is a nice twist on the tale. There is always rebirth after death, always a new start. Although we are no longer "there" in our earthly bodies, I like to think we float about for a while to make sure all is ok and then start on a new and exciting road. But maybe that's just me!!
As always this was wonderful to read, the rhyming flow is even, although the meter is sometimes uneven. It does not detract from the poem at all. And as we all know by now I'm a big fan of your work :)
Thanks for the RR, this is an amazing poem. This too is going in my favorites. (: My favorite line is "Maybe all in life is not in gloom. Maybe there's life in death's embrace."
This is very characteristic of you...I can see that it is one of your older writes...but even with the irregular meter, your gift of flow shines through...you always had a talent with imagery and that shows here too...Also, the poem has an optimistic tone which too, is a signature of your poetry. It is perhaps a little cruder as compared to some of your other writes (probably because it is older), but beautiful nonetheless. However, it is perhaps not as transparent as some of your other writes...However, I'll tell what I gained from the verse...
Someone pointed out below that the second and third stanzas are not in chronological order...but I feel that the order is not misplaced because the stanzas speak of different things. The second talks about our souls climbing the stairs to heaven with a heavy heart, perhaps because we are moving away from our world.
But the third one speaks of our legacy....the deeds that we leave behind...
The next stanza further explores this theme and speaks of what all we did to keep ourselves happy and that our entire life lay before us in its entirety only after we died...
And hence, since we live in our deeds after we die, we must make use of our lives and "give our best" (to make the world a better place).
The profoundly elegant line "Maybe there's life in death's embrace" indeed justifies that endeavor...
A very thoughtful write coming from a young mind...Well done!
The chronological order of the stanzas is amiss to me. For example, the 2nd stanza talks about the path to heaven and the 3rd one talks about dying. I'd like to think we first have to die to see what the path into heaven is like.
I strongly agree with Linda Marie in a previous review, "Mythology and hypotheticals aside, there is life after death. My father passed over when I was just four and my mother passed over this past October. They are both gone, but life goes on - in me." - it couldn't be more true.
It's nice to see you wrote this after a friend of yours lost his father, but if anything, remind him of what Linda Marie said. Life goes on in him :)
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