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Thursday, August 20, 2015

Light Goes Quietly

Place yourself in the earth,
and face the Sun
as you make your way,

for when death comes
it will be greeted
with minutes that no longer
have your back; though time
will go slack, for its line
will be cut and there will be no answer
or returning favour
of another day;

but do not dismay
is what I say--
       but then my preference
has always been for silence,
(and my apologies to Dylan Thomas)
I don't want to rage if the dying light
is just mine;

I'm fine with my time,
though it's not for me to say whether

this mortal coil will shuffle off
with a tear, or rip, or break
being brittle, it may crack
like dry wood underfoot,
it may be dashed across rocks
of the running brook;

but I can say that the truth
of where I stood will remain--
       if you place yourself in the Sun's refrain
you will still shine come the rain,

and I can say that being buried in silence
is the best way, to be sent quietly
without tears or cries, but to realise
you are no longer alone, or really gone,

(for why would you mourn
those journeying home?)

       you are now the earth, and as one,
the light that shone is now the Sun,
you have repaid the gift of life
and all your debts are done;

your head laid to rest
on the breast of all beginning,
you realise only when light passes
to light-- there really is no ending.

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