Saturday, November 2, 2013

Death poem

Death poem

I hope to pen a farewell poem, jisei
(in the Zen-haiku tradition)

my very last day on earth but, I'm thinking --
why wait?  This empty page tempts me

to leave it blank beneath the provocative title
but, that's not the story -- not the whole story.

You have given me -- are giving me --
words with which to fill in the blanks,

tainted to be sure, approximated,
strained through the human brain and heart

but, divine in origin, intent and gravity.
I find my voice when You begin to speak

through my throat and fingers.  O Lord,
may the last poem we write be love divine

put impossibly into words, my part being
the unread, empty spaces between the lines.

O child of God, pray your death poem to write
someday in the dust beneath your Master's feet.


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