"Death" Comes for Me
When I was a child
"Death" came as a surprise
Now....I expect it
For myself
And for others
As a child
I heard the word
"Death"
It came
For people
And for animals
They never came back
As a young adult
"Death" was a surprise
Unacceptable
Cause for great sorrow
Now I expect "Death"
Know its' kindness
Know its' necessity
Know its' fairness
Know its' promise
I wait for its' gentle knock
On my door
"Death" comes
For me
Words of a painter about art, painting and other thoughts about life, death and things that get in the way. I began my blog 2010.
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11 comments:
But hopefully not for many years yet, as you still have so many more paintings to do, my friend! I resonate with our gained understanding that sometimes death even comes as a friend, to release one from suffering. Though there is no getting around our prolonged sorrow over those we love and miss so much. I am STILL grieving Pup, the longest grieving of my life. Perhaps I am grieving Life, too. Loved your poem, kiddo. Deeply reflective and wise, and accepting of the inevitable passage we will make.
Annell, I never think about my own death. I enjoyed this poem, though it did make me a bit sad.
Pamela
to know the kindness of death...now there is a thought to wrap your head around....and the expectation of it...it comes for all...that is for sure...an old friend...
i like this.. i've kind of made my peace with it these few days. everything dies, and it's easier to live once you know it's kindness...
Wow, Annell. This poem took my breath away. As you know, I am no stranger to death....and you have captured really well the feelings we have about death at different times in our life. Bravo.
I like how you show the evolution of your feelings about "death" from childhood up to the present date. I enjoyed the optimistic touch at the end too.
I appreciate your exploration of the kindness of death. This is a strong write. I like it a great deal, and will read it again now.
There seems to be an air of resignation in the speaker, quite the opposite of "raging against the dying of the light," which is counseled in the Dylan Thomas poem. I think both are probably needed: resignation and raging. The trick is knowing which to do when!
Two-Word Whirl
Death is the one certainty we have in life. Loved your poem, by the way. Many thanks.
Greetings from London.
I expect to be at the "station" unpacked with a broad smile. :-)
Nice capture of your topic.
ZQ
You captured a slew of emotions with this one. Although I can understand the "kindness" of death as a "friend", am not sure I have graduated to full acceptance of that reality. Will hope I get there eventually,
Elizabeth
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