What Is the Matter

Dying things and dying people,
Passing seasons, passing years,
Ebbing tides and ebbing powers,
Falling empires, falling tears...

Leaving friends and leaving dwellings,
Flagging hopes and flagging joys,
Caving buildings, caving virtues,
Hopeless ventures, hopeless ploys...

I have often felt abandoned,
Left behind by life’s advance--
Relegated to the quagmire
Of a cosmos run by chance...

You are not alone in searching
For the hidden face of God
As you peer into the blackness
Of the soul and sky and sod...

Death of morning, death of meaning,
Death of fruit and flow’r and seed,
Death of wishing or desiring,
Death of all-consuming need...

Could it be I could not face it,
Nor could you, while drawing breath,
Face what truly, finally matters,
Were it not for death--sweet death?


MNA 3/12/15