19 March 2018 Settling into Silence

Death is a subject we ignore for the most part. It’s true, isn’t it? Other than illness, few other topics get the cold shoulder (pardon the black humor) that death does. We just hate it, and with legitimate reason. Death means the end of us. When push comes to shove, those who are comforted by beliefs in an afterlife can’t prove it, yet don’t want to give up the consolation. Reasonable, isn’t it? Maybe even necessary. 

This week’s post, in parallel with a post on 22 January 2018 which took on the subject of life (“To Be or Not To Be”), takes on the other big one: Death. Be forewarned: A few poems in future 2018 posts will continue to explore this endgame topic. And why shouldn’t we be courageous enough to take a look at the certain inevitable final act that comes to each and every one of us? Well, one answer is that it’s just too dang scary. Buck up muffin! What we don’t know about can kill us. (Ouch! Another bit of sly humor.)

Settling into Silence

Louder than all sounds before
circling round their feet
a rookery of ravens
swirling beneath them in leaden rings
of deadened nevermores
each an echo of a time before
a dirge sounding the end of things

Three tricksters circle round them
age, sickness, and decay
Leaves of chapters written
read, forgotten, put away
unbroken voices in the stillness
unsoothed by old lovers’ words
unrelenting stifled days
time freezing over – nothing stays

Not one comes for counsel
Not one voice to action calls
Approaching whisper stems the flow of actuality
Self-doubt now sinks to dead certainty
no rescue
no restoration
no renewal
allure of dying
the infidelity of time
aged out and fallen flying

The spider’s clock unwinds to
inevitable harsh derision
drawn down hours with seconds ticking out
the true cause of denigration –  being old
hard witnesses to elder numbers written
tumbling over coiling memories
enfolding clasped remnant reveries
living out the disrespect
enduring the harsh contempt
within the knowledge that all is right
regardless of the spider’s hourly bite

Now is the time to slow the cadence
days march backward into serenity
each step ripens toward tranquility
Even breath slows to shallow
It is all right. Even relatively welcome
forgetting shrouds all reasons  
muffled voices of all persuasions
now gone far beyond past treasons

Settling into silence coming
Weeping soon and then the drumming
quickening now
and then the waiting

Background: This writer will be 68 years old later this year. Twice in my seven decades, I have, as they say, cheated death. I came close enough to look down that proverbial long tunnel with the light at the end. But I guess I wasn’t close enough to checking out because I saw neither tunnel nor light. Or maybe neither of them actually exist? One aspect that has always intrigued me is the idea of the silence that follows death (my assumption). In addition, as we grow older, most of us lead quieter, more sedate lives, with less hullabaloo. That is a different kind of silence.

Please take note that the explorations below are quite personal. If you wish to communicate with me about this post, alternatively to the public reply function of this blog, you can contact me at: catherineastenzel@gmail.com. You are welcome, of course, to go public with your comments and reactions.

Exploration 1: Does the poem above make you feel nervous, disturbed, or even angry? If so, why? If not, why not? Try to describe the exact feelings you experience after reading the poem.

Exploration 2: When he first left his palace and his role as a prince, the Buddha saw three things “out in the real world” that gravely disturbed him: old age, sickness, and death. So, if this poem gave you uncomfortable feelings, you are in good company. By the way, the story in the suttas makes informative reading. 

Exploration 3: Can you tell what the poet’s own beliefs are about old age, sickness, and death? How do they compare with your own? When it comes to your own beliefs, would you describe your attitude toward them as: 1) absolutely certain they are right, 2) moderately unsure that you have all the information you need, or 3) adrift in existential skepticism?

Exploration 4: What does “settling into silence” mean to you?

Exploration 5: In the second to final stanza, what does the phrase “Now is the time to slow the cadence” mean? Why is the word “is” italicized?

As I said in the previous post, may you stay lit, and in addition, may you be free from the suffering of doubt.

C’est la vie!
Jack Pine Savage