A poem by Navaneet.
To paraphrase Forrest Gump, a genuine philosopher, “Death is as death does.”
You know death does a lot.
Everyone knows about death,
How she dances, circles around us and leaves our heads spinning,
“No, not now.”
Never really inviting me, never offering her hand,
and yet letting me know that she is always here
ready to burst forth by my side,
to slide
legs parted just so
into a sultry tango
to the finale.
Death is a dancer,
and I cannot deny any more my love for her.
No longer will I dance with my back turned to her.
I am not afraid to see the obvious reality of life
that death dances with everyone…
eventually
unsparingly
suddenly
surprisingly
violently
gently
…without fail.
No one gets out alive.
Yet Death has been generous with me regarding time.
So I launch this project*
with no certainty that I can finish
before Death finishes me.
Trust uncertainty.
* a book on death
Published posthumously
Featured image credit to Serhii Kindrat on Unsplash
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