Close encounters
We all hear
All of us
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Death will come
It´s a must...
But then again
It´s never here...
Except when
It creeps up on us...
Breathing,
Waiting,
Rotting
...Dreams
...Words
...Lives
...Moments,
They all go...
And all that´s left
Is a cold shiver,
A silence,
And a blank...
posted by e. at 2/04/2005 08:44:00 PM
4 Comments:
I waited for the blank space between the breathings for a night. Each exhalation was it. For each one, I prayed for silence, I begged for mercy. They kept coming and, which each one, I knew that life wouldn''t keep breathing until it wasn't life at all, until love has perished, until justice has failed, until gifts are not given any more.
I followed the breathing of that old chest, that failing heart, and realised that the only thing that could be done to save it, was to breathe at the same rhythm, accompany her into whatever mysterious full-of-sound times were in store for her, and make sweet music with every conjuction of sounds are respiration made.
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