Musings on death, with a light touch--but hey, who feels anything then! Published 2007 in Ygdrasil, copyright to J. Donald Coonrod.
When you lie down in darkness, don’t
be concerned about life—at its best
living is a foggy algorithm of getting
from day to day.
As to cremation versus burial, well,
it’s nonsense of course, souls already
afloat somewhere, bereft of cognizance,
if they are busy are just riding
chariots upward or the reverse.
We lie down finally in beds we’ve made,
a lovely grove of black tulips perhaps,
or a chorus of softly rounded dahlias,
good season after season, their grey
shadows appointed somehow by fading
light.
“The woman or man who is a poet, or fiction writer, or playwright, or all of these, is engaged constantly in a jazz ballet of vocabularies, passions, genders, histories, perspectives, death, love, and life. The music of revelation announces itself to
Inspirational poetry, written from the heart and soul. Verses that are well-suited for reading on a rainy day and that are guaranteed to bring a smile to your face.
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Be safe,
Karen