Out of nowhere, the glass shatters, the window breaks, and you are no longer
under the assumption what happens after life, whether you lived each day
to the fullest, really doesn't matter right now, all your friends and family
only grieve your passing, words mean very little other than to convey
feelings of worshipful sorrow, no one returns after heart and brain cease,
neurons cease to signal, the body becomes still, silent in our mourning,
only the distant gaze of death after this life, the eyes go blank, lifeless,
watch the world pass us by, our insignificance means nothing to the stars,
here on earth, we struggle together or alone, our suffering is great,
everyone strives to help, but some get left behind, neglected by others,
remain still and silent, we expect nothing less, as we pray over you,
everyone knows their time will come when blood ceases to flow back to the heart,
this condition called life or death follows us all everyday of our lives,
how we go, nobody knows, when or why, from what, diseases are monsters,
everyone dies but us it seems, we watch our friends grow old and pass away,
glass shatters, the bullet strikes its victim down dead, no one knows the killer,
life plays out just like this, whether disease or crime, no one sees it coming,
as actors on the stage or in films know the script, we never get to read
screenplays we play a role, only the playwright knows the scene where we meet death,
silence resounds still life paintings, la nature morte,
silent upon the slab, the gurney, your coffin, your bed, the floor, the street,
however we find you, whatever we can do, we will get it done, stat,
although nothing can save a life already culled from the sea, a net cast
to catch as many fish and other sea creatures in one draw, one moment,
the fact remains, no one worries about any other fish in the catch,
everyone only cares about the poor flounder captured from the bottom,
reeling in the huge net with all the other fish, all the other dead souls,
survivors flash frozen in tanks beneath the hull, fishermen make money
taking bodies from the sea to feed the hungry ghosts, like you were and we are,
harm becomes us, humans act like the predators across the savanna,
even though we devour the dead fish of the sea, so the hidden devour
widows and widowers, mothers, daughters, fathers and sons, the family
in one fell swoop, silent from beyond our vision, beyond all our senses,
no one knows the hidden, why the hidden exists, what the hidden could want,
demonic or godly, nobody knows or cares, we shed tears while the dead
only sleep until death wakes them from their slumber, this is the assumption
widows and widowers wonder about while they view their husbands and wives,
broken glass, the window, of course, repairable, but the life lost is yours,
really, some of us knew you better and some less, but, of course, you were loved,
even still, the silence of the crowd gathered here at your final service,
a memorial, asks the unanswered question, only the mystics know
kindly how to respond without saying a word, without secrets revealed,
silence and stillness hides the unspoken horror to save us from terror,
ask not to hear the truth, ask only to console the living after death,
no one knows how this is possible, to console the living after life,
dead souls, unlike the fish of the sea, continue as living memories,
yet, we must not inquire the deeper mystery, hidden beneath the soil,
obvious as the nose on our face, yet hidden behind the veil of silk,
underneath her visage remains intact, death mask, love remembers all facts,
ask the truth about death, about life, hear silence, still as an oil painting,
resolve to uncover the hidden behind truth, the lesson we will learn
emits a tone only mites know as a signal to bite into the flesh,
nothing ever again matters as this one life, your life, now gone, deceased,
only love overcomes suffering and sorrow, we vow to remember,
life enters this planet like no other, knowledge of this fact, limited
only by our reason and imagination, both get us in trouble,
no one knows why, why here, why now, what is the now, what is the here and now,
given life as a gift, we run as long and hard as horses at sunset,
eventually we give up the ghost, disappear, into what no one knows,
remember that heaven and hell are metaphors, all we have is you now.
