Working To Abandon Immortality

Let us accept this pain and some fear it will heighten autumn colors crack of clean air black crows in blue sky lake. Rather than fight pain, falling asleep in front of tv, understand the full import of its situation in the body. Blessed once, cursed now only fear prevents full knowledge of experience. The gray sky brings winter, no blame. The poet writes a few last poems or continues to live with his pain. In itself pain does not oppose life, and may enhance it or build character, create wisdom. But too much fear chokes the throat and burns the eyes. It destroys the last free assessment of life. * * * Now I am going to live in my body as it is, almost fearlessly running in pain, working to abandon immortality as a hope, conceiving sunset after sunset feeling what I feel. On the streets I meet many beautiful young women curious to a certain extent what makes a man older. I can only say ten years and the hand that reaches through the cloud. I can say only the knowledge of mortality which makes us brothers and sisters with the animals. And only the acceptance which gives us wisdom to couple often and lovingly. How am I going to live every day as my last, hoping happiness outgrows fear by an ounce or enough? By running, writing and loving. By moving uphill and downhill like a bear. By committing my last words to a powerful lord. How do the clouds accept my dead self? A rock thrown, a crow. * * * When I am old young girls will not be frightened anymore. I will invite them to my seat and tell about the women I knew. I will tell about the clothes they wore and how they earned a living. I will try to remember what was important to them and if they had a favorite color or knew how to divine. Maybe I live and maybe I don't. The smoke is white or black. The winds are bright or dark. The coins are heads or tails. What have I been afraid of? Death is most of all like sleep. We spend so long apart after briefly knowing ourselves. I need you to know myself and without you all I know is sun.