The Brave Pedestrian

Often, walking home amidst traffic, I think about how fragile life is and how mortal we are. How easy it is for any moment to be the last. And how infinitely precious that moment will be. And so, in that context, this is my prayer: When the moment comes for my lifeblood to ebb away, I don’t want any unfinished goodbyes, regrets, unsaid apologies, anxiety, anger, clinging, weeping. I don’t want to see tears or shed them, or even to see the faces of near-and-dear ones. No final farewell, no famous last words. I hope to have lived in such a way that all my love has been given, and all love from others has been accepted, so that there is nothing more left to give or receive from anybody in this world. As the lights dim, I want my last thoughts to be of love and contentment, and serenity. I want to be literally able to kiss the earth with my lips and fingers — feel the soil, gravel, grass, pavement, whatever… and say goodbye. Maybe some wet doggy noses, or some cat...

Somewhere someone is making love – Maybe bird maybe beast or man Somewhere a child is being conceived And I am that child. So I have a date to keep For that I’ll have to die, again. Somewhere a mother is heavy with child – Maybe beast maybe ape or woman She’s my mother, I’ll suckle at her breast And if I don’t go now, if I stay on here My mother will hold a stillborn child  To her breast and grieve and wail And so I have a date to keep So I must die, again. And elsewhere a child is born – Who some years hence will seek my love I must not keep my lover waiting Or she’ll pass her days in barren need. Oh yes I have a date to keep So I must die, again. And my lover and I must then conceive Our children waiting to be born My unborn children call to me The mother of my children calls to me They all will die so that we can meet And so my loved ones, I must go. My mother, lover, children, friends  In an unborn future form...