At The Risk Of Being Morbid

 

at the risk of being morbid
 
At the risk of being morbid, I do believe I have found what I want read at my funeral.  This is, quite possibly the most beautiful poem I have ever read in my life.  Heartbreakingly beautiful.

Inscription for a Gravestone

By Robinson Jeffers

 

I am not dead, I have only become inhuman:

That is to say,

Undressed myself of laughable prides and infirmities,

But not as a man

Undresses to creep into bed, but like an athlete

Stripping for the race.

The delicate ravel of nerves that made me a measurer

Of certain fictions

Called good and evil; that made me contract with pain

And expand with pleasure;

Fussily adjusted like a little electroscope:

That’s gone, it is true;

(I never miss it; if the universe does,

How easily replaced!)

But all the rest is heightened, widened, set free.

I admired the beauty

While I was human, now I am part of the beauty.

I wander in the air,

Being mostly gas and water, and flow in the ocean;

Touch you and Asia

At the same moment; have a hand in the sunrises

And the glow of this grass.

I left the light precipitate of ashes to earth

For a love-token.

 
 

Kisses & Chaos,

Alli Woods Frederick

 

image:  special needs by piermario
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
This entry was posted in CULTURE, MY LIFE and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.