This is a 13 verse poem – a contribution to finding a proper perspective on death so that we can realise the deathless. The condition of the self saddled with desire obstructs a meditation and reflection on death with all the insights than can emerge.

In Praise of Death. A Poem

Not vile of war

not endurance

of pain, sickness

nor desires aim

nor underfoot

nor poison’s purchase

nor sudden loss of.

 

A simple death

everyday, ordinary

without drama

in bed, loved ones around

kettle on, nothing special

in sleep

mindful

noting last breath

alone, content.

 

I walk past my grave

I can see behind me

a small bump in the earth

formed in the forgotten

spaces in my mind.

 

Oh, the final song

heralds a full day

no more shadows

cast upon the dawn

Illiterates crave

their own legacies

as if the self  had

importance attached

to its demise.

 

A fading of fire

nowhere left to burn

where all events

cool out, a sublime

finality of breathing

praise be to heaven.

 

Life is not death

death is not life

that is not this

this is not that

never twain shall meet.

 

Death is nowhere

life is not ahead

nor found behind

i am not found

not here, not there

nor in between.

 

Never need to know

if I am or am I not

the blink of an eye

says what matters

without weight of tears

to then wipe away.

 

A bird of prey spies

outside heaven’s door

curious field mouse

wanders into field

wings flutter above

facing the wrong way.

 

Old thoughts form a

an imposter on life

an imposter on death

such thoughts fade

peace finds the soul.

in blink of a lifetime.

 

Never come to terms

with life and death

insubstantial pairs

mindful of both offers

a tangible relief to

presence and absence.

 

Ancient utters loud

when I am here

death is not here

when death is here

I am not here.

 

No fusion of both

free at last

final divorce

birds of a feather

feel the breeze

free at last.

Deathless reveals.

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