Friday, February 01, 2019

Death Be Not Proud...

Our writing word for today is "Death." Well, I suppose it's important to think about the end of the story, as we read or write along. I somehow like to think, that if my life were a book, it would be a long (maybe slow) read. War and Peace comes to mind, as do these sagas written over several volumns. Then there's Ken Follett's Pillars of the Earth and the never ending sequels.

Thinking about Death, is not something I do on a regular basis, but I have read and remembered what others have written on the subject. Mainly I remember the poets. Poets have a way of eulogizing almost anything - I often read "To A Mouse," which contains probably the saddest lines in all literature -

"The best laid schemes o' Mice and Men gang aft agley
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain for promis'd joy."

But, I digress. I was writing about a poet's distillation of Death. Here are some of my favourites.

Because I could not stop for Death -
He Kindly stopped for me -
The Carriage held but just ourselves -
And Immortality.

Emily Dickinson

Death be not proud, though many have called thee
Mighty and Dreadful, for thou at not so;
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

John Donne

and my favourite

Do not go gentle into that goodnight,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

Someone asked me once, how I thought I should die. I said I just want to hit a brick wall at full speed. My mother died dancing. We were celebrating my father's 90th birthday. She was wearing her sparkly dress, her silver dancing shoes; she had her make-up on, her hair done, in fact, she looked like a million bucks at 83. After the anniversary waltz and a fast jive number, she was two steps into a tango when she died in my father's arms. We were all there to see her go. She was always a bit of an actress and I won't say it was staged, but it was a convincing performance!!

Well,  February 1 is Imolc, often celebrated in Celtic mythology as the first day of Spring - the rebirth. Ogden Nash had a great retort for someone worrying about growing older. He said, "How old is Spring, Miranda?"

The pictures? Many reasons to send flowers

Have a lively day!

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