death poem

No, I won't make it THAT easy on you all. I am not planning to die anytime soon. But, this latest entry into the Fields of Arbol is inspired by a beautiful photo by Marcus J. Ranum that plays with the dichotomy and irony of love and death, sex and suffering and the nature of faith and duty (this is my resonance, go get your own if you don't agree).

death poem

barriers fall and all we are is the light,
burning through the veils, the sails that carry us
to where they bury us, far from home.
death is like a beautiful lady, waiting
in the next room, her skin satin and bright
as we reach for that we hope to receive,
sustained by hope and belief that she
will give us her heaven at least for a time,
for our patience and passions and faith.

William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

Here is his poem that he wrote with this piece:

Every day
drips down my cheek
then splashes onto the floor.


Marcus J. Ranum. all rights reserved.