Death's Euthanasia

We haven't been able to beat it any other way

and maybe that's the problem: beating, like

it's the proverbial horse. Why not, instead,

go at it with mercy, like it's a frail old man?

Love is stronger than hate; we've known this

since we were children, from "A Wrinkle in Time."

Let's love death, then.

After all, it affords so much -- an appreciation of beauty,

for instance; what of beauty if things last forever? --

and death is beauty's mother (It is wrong to beat a woman.)

What of heady teenaged love, adult consuming passion,

adoration of a child, or a dog with sweet brown eyes?

There is more: a end to sorrow, to suffering. Peace.

Even so...

But how to go about it?

Where is death's arm in which to launch the needle?

And what would the needle stop? Has death a heart?

If it did, it would be something not needing murder.

Can we smother it in its deepest of sleeps so it feels no pain?

But death lucubrates, is ever awake.

Could we simply withhold sustenance? But how?

Its sustenance is us.

Exactly how to pull the plug on something so complete?

It does not seem possible to euthanize the enemy.

Nor can it be beaten. We will just have to continue on,

raging hard, and weeping.

Copyright Julianza Shavin 2008