| Mortality (November 2001) I. The illness of a friend has brought my own Mortality to mind, has thrust it right Into my face, and I think there is some Slightly foul smell � is it the stench of rot? Or is that just paranoia taking Hold, unreasonably miring me in Dark thoughts that are baseless and wasteful, and Prevent enjoyment of that which does remain? II. The secret to this whole mess, it seems, has Never been hidden or excessively Complex: to find, in each new sunrise, bliss, And to feel the same at each no-cost display Of the night sky, which holds more treasure than All the museums that will ever exist. This is clear to me, as it�s always been To everyone, yet happiness eludes. III. The pangs I feel with each advancing day Are not for those who�ll keep me in their thoughts, And the comforts I feel aren�t ground in a Surrender of my fate to some First Cause. Rather, it is the awe-filled physical Entity itself that inspires devotion, And I can�t accept the fact that she will Continue to spin on after I�m gone. |