"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."
~Dead Poet's Society~
February 27, 2013
A Dawning of Dying
On My First Real Encounter with Death (Very Young)
In my youth I saw a bird’s ravished body
Lying in the silence of a furrow
Its auburn feathers were wilted and shoddy
And ants stripped its flesh and belly thorough
Strange … so strange imagining this bird to be
To have once ascended the vaulted blue
To have woven music in the old oak tree
Or to have plucked from grass the morning dew
And now, alas … struck down from the sky it flew
This bird, this tiny little creature lies
Displaying a sure message in open view
That whatever comes to live also dies
In the quietude of that lonely meeting
I marveled dreadfully that this should be
That death swallows life, and that life is fleeting
And that all will succumb …
… including me
-jwm
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