-- How Many Ways To Die --
by John Herlihy
How many ways do we die,
Without actually leaving the world.
How many ways do we reply,
With every new banner unfurled.
The child in us eventually dies,
To give way to the emerging adolescent.
The pubescent adolescent sighs,
At the childhood lost reminiscent.
The loss of a loved one,
Seems a kind of death of the self.
One’s soul emotions wrung,
Laid to rest in the back of a shelf.
The loss of a treasured dream,
A dying hope that will never come true .
Dreams never what they seem,
Disappearing as though we never knew.
The present but a moment,
A second dwarfed by minutes and hours.
The past and future many moments,
Winter’s death reborn as spring flowers.
If the sun never dies,
Then the sunset could never be born.
If the moon didn’t rise,
Its moonglow would never the night adorn.
To die before you die,
As the traditional saying goes.
Trust the One on high,
New doors open as others close.
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Copyright ©John Herlihy
Saturday 23 March 2024
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Rebecca
Seems a kind of death of the self.
One’s soul emotions wrung,
Laid to rest in the back of a shelf.
And yes, new doors have opened in my own case, but not with looking for or stumbling into a new relationship. I've hung up my spurs and am content with the "other ways" to die, or to at least give them thought as you so eloquently posted here. Thank you.