Meditation on the floods of ‘94

And I think about the coffins
floating out of frame. The old
television like a box of faded
off-market crayons. The luster
lost, the proper name all
but forgotten. And I think
about the coffins. The ferries
of the dead floating
above houses. The suggestion
of what remains inside
too unsettling to consider. How
the body sinks in to the reality
of our fortunes when the mind
fights and fights to keep
those fortunes away. And I wonder
if the mind survives
the body. If the mind sees visions
of itself and recoils at the horror
of knowing what happens in the
after. The body transforms. This
would seem to be the purpose of life
to keep moving from beauty
to the creation of beauty made
possible in demise. And the coffins
as symbols of our belief
we can hold back
the teeth of time. That we can carry
civilization out beyond
the breakers of reality
and continue to ferry the dead
closer and closer to returning
if we just hold on. But here. Here
we see them. They are not
them anymore. And we know this.
And as the water recedes
find no one has the courage
to open the coffins
that rest like moldering fish
outside our doors

Reviews

[SkinlessFrank]

This is beautiful, the imagery of the decay and decomposition flowing like stinking mud and the destruction of lives spill over in my mind to the decay of all things that civilization builds, and the thin veneer of the casket being the only barrier separating our eyes from beholding the raw truth. Nature in the end will have its way us with I suppose, whether we dare look at the chaotic outcome or not.

[Eilis]

Hi, thank you for your kind review. It does all seem inevitable. But our modern minds do seek to escapes the grimness of reality. I appreciate your thoughts.