To Leave This Plane Gently
This morning, what wasn’t a sign
leading to our destination?
As I’m shown how
to leave this plane gently,
there’s no need to find a solution
to what isn’t meant to be solved.
How useless it is, attempting
to thwart an innate process that’s
wise beyond my understanding,
one that asks only to be honoured.
At sunset, a coppery swirl
of brushstrokes, and after, the stars
fixing us in a filament of belonging.
Of course, everyone wants a miracle.
What we often get is the cosmic irony
of chasing a chimera
that comes in and out of focus—
the divine caprice
of agreeing to exist
at this time and in this space,
on our enchanting, perplexing planet.
Tsunamis of unknowing,
portals to possibilities, and
the heavens’ quivering light.
What Goes Unsaid
As we lie awake talking
late in the night,
what weighs heavy on my chest
that I am not able to voice
is the probability that one of us
will someday need to
continue on alone.
Medical history, statistics,
and our ages point
to that being me.
It’s beyond my imagining.
No more sore muscles
massaged after a tiring day.
No more bodies melding
in S-curves,
arms and legs intertwined,
like we have slept
for decades.
No longer to be held
by the solid trunk of you.
I want to ask how
this parting
could even be possible.
And still, I am afraid to speak
those precarious words
into the unspoiled air.
A Doorway
Many of us attend
to death’s distant call
like a train whistle heard
on the outskirts of town,
unable to picture the pale rider
pulling into the station.
A quick nod of recognition,
then we are distracted
by the panorama whizzing by.
Anticipating loss, I am watching
a doorway to death squeak open—
no longer able to disregard
what was previously ignored,
no longer able
to go about my days
as if this existence will never end.
Sleep is a welcomed oblivion,
where for a few hours I forget
the slow progression of demise.
Mortality now commands
my attention. There is no place
to hide, no other option
except to respond
to the persistent knocking,
welcome the guest in.
«LECTURE CONNEXE» POEMS BY JOHN GREY: Mystery Guest, The Tree and the Window and more»
image : image: Pixabay
