10 December 2020

Poem

Mortality

Where shall we go when we grow old

And forever waits ahead?
What dreams will there be left to chase
In these lives before we’re dead?
Oh sing to me my bonny lass
Of those glorious glory days
When summer held us blessed
In the lamplight of her gaze
And high upon the hilltops
Where we rambled in our prime
Midst gorse and swathes of bracken
We abjured the  march of time.
Oh we shall sail to nothingness   
Where circling seabirds cry
Above the boundless ocean
That greets us when we die.


Picture - West Retford Cemetery, Notts

26 comments:

  1. Lovely poem. I hate to think of a day when we can't ramble any more. There's got to be an after life. I hope so anyway.

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    1. Thanks for reading "Mortality" David. Ahead I just see a dark, endless ocean with no consciousness of it whatsoever.

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  2. Very nice, and fitting for these cold dark days near the solstice.

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    1. Briefly, I had thought of finding a place for the word "solstice" but it just didn't seem to fit. Thank you for reading this poem Jennifer.

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  3. I feel that way about my inevitable end. Nothing there at the end of the road, just oblivion. So I shall not be coming back to haunt you YP.

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  4. Splendid visual imaging in your poetry, YP.

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  5. An interesting, well-constructed poem, Neil, but I of course as a believing Christian do not accept that the view you describe is true. Let me say this one thing: The joy with which your poem looks backward to good times in the past is very much like the joy with which a Christian looks forward to good times in the future.

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    1. That is indeed a key difference. For non-believers like myself, the only possibility of Heaven is what we make of life here on Earth. Thanks for reading "Mortality" Bob.

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  6. Thank you for sharing this poem. It is well written and expresses the feeling of mortality clearly.

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  7. Having now read it a number of times I can solemnly pronounce that I think it is a beautiful poem looking thoughtfully behinds and ahead at what awaits us.

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    1. Your comment alone makes the crafting of that poem feel worthwhile. Thank you Graham. I guess and indeed hope that it makes most sense to non-believers.

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  8. I love the poem. I also think that picture is awesome. Did you take it?

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    1. Yes I did take the picture Debby and then edited it to create a more other worldly appearance to fit with the poem.

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  9. I used to go to the cemetery every Sunday with my Dad to visit his Mum and Dad's grave when I was a little girl. It wasn't a somber occasion. They used to leave great big piles of grass on the road side and Dad used to push me into them, funny what you remember isn't it?
    On one grave it said.
    'Where ever you be, let your wind go free, cos that was the cause of the death of me'.
    I've never forgotten that and often wonder exactly what it was that killed him. lol
    Briony
    x

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    1. You are right Briony. We just cannot control what we remember. I think that the deceased was probably killed by excessive flatulence. Perhaps somebody lit a match"!

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  10. The saddest set of graves I ever saw are from an historical cemetery a walk from me. Back in the early 1800s a young man was killed when a boulder fell on him in a quarry. Next to him in the grave of his infant son, born after his father's death, and lived but a few months. Next to that grave is the grave of the young mother, dead a few months after her boy, not even two years after the death of her husband.

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    1. There's a story there Debby. Just close your eyes and imagine a tale about that sadly doomed family.

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  11. Some down to earth thoughts here. Most of us ignore the passage of time and do not consider how much is left.

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    1. Thanks for reading and considering the poem Red. Much appreciated.

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  12. An excellent poem and it's good to know it's author is the author of the accompanying photo.
    I have a different view of our eternity. I think our moldering bodies do go somewhere, eventually, and we end as atoms pinging from stars in the universe. We might even bump into some atom we hoped to see.

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    1. Of course the atoms from which we are composed will never disappear entirely. Thanks for reading the poem Joanne.

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  13. A beautiful poem, matched perfectly with the beautiful picture. For me, cemeteries are places where I like to walk and ponder. Death is not a taboo for me in conversation, and why would it? It is part of life, whether we like it or not.

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    1. Thanks for reading and considering Meike.

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