But, what am I doing? I cannot begin to understand what happens just before life leaves a body. I have not died before, and even those who say they almost died, it cannot be the same. Out of body experiences, heart resuscitated and shocked back into beating, God (or whoever) deciding to grant you another chance to live, yada yada. It cannot be the same as death itself. So please, stop trying to make me understand what death is, what death feels like, or what happens after death. We all do not know, but there is joy in imagining, right?
Umh, no, wrong. But why does the absence of life seem so...perfect...afterwards. I mean, the person dies, and nothing. The absence of all things, for them, as per my imagining. Then we who are alive are left weeping, throwing ourselves on the floor stricken with grief, we prepare to eternally hide the corpse, we ask why? It's all quite interesting actually, quite an act, though sincere at most time. Why cant it be different. Well because we are human, and there is no other way to do it.
So I woke up this morning, and I had a chant, an ode, to all those that lost their lives. By breath simply leaving their body, by old age, by tragedy, by illness, by their own hand, by somebody else's hand...by death:
A silent chant to the other side
I imagine a clear stream trickling down, sun glisterning, reflections of light...
You look my way, the glare is caught in your eyes. I have never noticed that your eyes have streaks of gold and dark brown when light enters them...why do I see this only now?
A swift wind brushes against my skin, wow the air smells so clean...
I know you are there, but you keep escaping my view like an angel who does not want to be discovered...
I am so uneasy, but the sound of the wind whooshing and dancing inbetween the grass hypnotizes me...the water trickling down the rocks...fixating.
She is here, I know she is...I can hear her voice.
Move, do something, why is my body so stiff?
Suddenly all becomes dark, but the feeling remains...
The sounds so clear in my ear, my minds paints it's own pictures.
"Mother I miss you, Dad why did you leave, Grandma I need you, Oh God why did you take my baby away, Life is so painful without you, But he was alive just a second ago, I will never forget your smile, My heart bleeds for you Love of my life..."
The mingled conversations snap me out of this trance...
The darkness slips away and sorrow overcomes me.
I see faces, places, pictures, memories, playing out, I swear all of them are not mine.
I try to push the thoughts of you back into my head, but human pain overcomes me...
But this is my head, my dream, or is it a reality.
What are all these people doing here, please leave me alone...
Echoes of my plea reverberate and dissapear into nothingness.
A blinding light, silence, clear whiteness..
A figure approaches...
It's you.
Pain...you tell me it will forever reside in me.
I start to cry...you tell me my tears wash your spirit new every time.
A look of dissapointment...you say that is the same look you had when you realised you could not live anymore.
But why...it was time.
It was soon...it was the right time.
I miss you...not more than I miss you.
I need you...I am here always.
Just to touch you...everytime you come here, I am holding you.
Am I dreaming?
Yes, wake up.
I walk out of my room, barefeet, and go outside. The air is cold, it stings my wet face. I look into the sky, the stars unclear and fall on my knees...
Exhausted, emotionally, mentally...
Visitations of the dead...
Death is merely the absence of Life.
Vincent van Gogh - Starry night (image)
