The End
Not every man knows what he shall sing at the end,
Watching the pier as the ship sails away, or what it will seem like
When he's held by the sea's roar, motionless, there at the end,
Or what he shall hope for once it is clear he'll never go back.
When the time has passed to prune the rose or caress the cat,
When the sunset torching the lawn and the full moon icing it down
No longer appear, not every man knows what he'll discover instead.
When the weight of the past leans against nothing, and the sky.
Is no more than remembered light, and the stories of cirrus
And cumulus come to a close, and all the birds are suspended in flight,
Not every man knows what is waiting for him, or what he shall sing
When the ship he is on slips into the darkness, there at the end.
Mark Strand
There is nothing like the tragedy of a life ended too soon to make you think of your own mortality. This evening we attended the wake of a husband and father who suffered a sudden, fatal heart attack at the age of 42. He leaves behind a wife and four young children. In a moment they lost their father and husband.
It is a small comfort to know that he died wearing his scapular and received conditional last rights from a priest.
But it makes you think again. And really ask yourself
What am I doing that is right?"
"What am I doing that is wrong?"
"What needs to change now?"
Could I go today without regrets? Carpe diem. And while that phrase is sometimes used to justify impulsive, foolish action it is better used to inspire right action, redemptive measures, enobled ends.
When I first heard of his sudden death I thought it really is true that you know not the day, nor the hour, in fact this very night your life may be required of you.
Be ready.
Please pray for the soul of Marc Anderson. Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord. And May perpetual light shine upon him.
4 comments:
When we shall have arrived there, and God grant that we will, then shall we see that these were not tragedies at all.
Rather, the means of actually effecting our "getting there."
For God is good. And who knows, among the sentimental wished-for designs that we forsee, what may in fact have come to pass?
For who has known the mind of God; or been His couselor?
Let us give thanks for the virtue of Hope, and remember that it is indeed SUPERnatural - a gift!
For by this power we see, however through blurry eyes, a light now more accessible because of the reflection enabled by the water of our tears.
I promise to pray for the repose of his soul.
Beautiful poem, beautiful post. I recommend his soul to the prayer of Mary Most Sorrowful, Mother of the Holy Souls in Purgatory. Amen+
Mary, what a beautiful post.
Edward, what a beautiful response.
I found myself meditating on both throughout the day.
How I wish we could always keep before us the thoughts contained in your post.
Why is it so easy to forget that death could come in a moment?
We will remember your friend in our prayers.
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