Words On The Wall

WORDS

FLYING IN THE EMBRACE OF SPACE

There are three stories about death in the midst of my stream of poetry and philosophizing – The Climber , Transitional Being, and Sistah MK Awesome . Why? Here’s the scoop... These are three of my seminal stories. Among the ones that broke my heart so completely that they broke my head open too, wide enough to let the Light come pouring through, and these words have been waiting long to be given flight and shared with other souls.

Birth and Death are our bookends, Soooper Friends. That tender, terrible, ever-present whisper in yer mind of knowing that you *will* die? The sound of it IS the bass note, the minor chord, the Sorrow ever-present within the Joy, the very bass line of your life here upon Earth... and like all the sound that dances within the Great River IS, the Water Song of Death is rich and brimming with wisdom, magic, and mystery.

For reasons unfathomable to me modern ‘Mmmurrrikan society is terrified of death, and of grief. They embalm it, stuff it in the ground, choke it into an impenetrable box of silent confusion and despair... So terrified of it that they are hopelessly lost at sea when it comes to claim their Beloveds, and then their suffering is rendered infinitely more awful because nobody seems to know WTF to do when someone is grieving.

Why?

Hmmm... been pondering on that one a looooooong time. It’s really friggen WEIRD. Best as I can tell ‘tis ‘cuz the wild-eyed Preacher Men, and the cold-eyed Science Pushers, and the greedy-eyed Snake Oil Peddlers have all the Human brains so damn scrambled up with Fear O’ the Almighty + Nihilism + Ego that none of ‘em can think a single damn drop of straight about what the Holy Trinity might really BE Right Here, Right Now, let alone what they might BE once they shed their mortal coil.

I was absolutely obliterated by grief the first time it truly came for me. It was agony. But it is because of that terrible sorrow, and the ones that followed it, that this is no longer the case when my Beloveds change form. Nowadays there is pain in the loss, but it IS all Love + Gratitude immeasurable, even that which is Truly Terrible.

Here... Kahlil Gibran gives voice to how I have come to feel far better than I ever could in On Death from The Prophet –

"You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond; And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity. Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor. Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king? Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling? For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered? Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance."
~ Kahlil Gibran

The only thing I would dispute within the Maestro's words is that my beloved Zeke, the Transitional Being, taught me that the Owl actually can unveil the Mystery of Light if only one is willing to see it, for it is not the Owl who is blind unto the day, Soooper Friends, but rather 'tis the Humans who walk about Terra with their eyes desperately closed.

xoxox
Jax

Guest UserMarch 17, 2018