Saturday, August 9, 2014

A SOMBER ONE, TODAY




A KIND OF BLISS


He says he fears not death
so much as the suffering
and pain that might
precede it.  And yet he fears
the profound humiliation
of impotence, the helpless
indignity of incontinence,
the exposure of the body’s
naked infirmity to incurious
eyes; he fears not death itself,
but the stench and shuffle
of approaching death, atrophy
of the limbs, confinement
to the sick bed.  And, yes,
in the end he must admit
he dreads that final, agonizing
glimpse of loved ones, the last
rasping labor of the lungs,
the solitary, swift passage
from life into that gaping
maw, the infinite black hole
of not-being, for eternity. 
All this, in quiet moments,
Coyote meditates, finding
in tranquil contemplation
of the dread some measure
of serenity, a kind of bliss.

2 comments:

kfsartist said...

Really powerful, honest clear thoughts, Thank you!

Karen, Laguna, from here on in KFS

PeterAtLarge said...

Thanks again, KFS! Love, P