{"id":2117,"date":"2021-11-28T22:27:24","date_gmt":"2021-11-28T22:27:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/?page_id=2117"},"modified":"2022-01-09T09:27:01","modified_gmt":"2022-01-09T09:27:01","slug":"death-sonnets","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/december-2021\/death-sonnets\/","title":{"rendered":"Death Sonnets"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Brighid Schroer<\/strong><\/p>\n

A Six-Sonnet Sequence<\/h2>\n

1<\/strong>
\nI wonder what it would be like if I
\nknew that we weren\u2019t going to die.
\nI could be steady, enduring as a stone,
\nnot the flowed-through thing I am,
\nmoving briefly in and gone.
\nAnd you and I would face each other,
\nslow to change, no hurry with no end.
\nHaving all time to fill or leave unused,
\nwould we become confused
\nor passionless and wise, no longer
\nneeding, needing, wanting, needing?
\nAnd how would it alter
\nwhat we think we are together?
\nI\u2019d be afraid to live with my mistake for ever.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
\n2<\/strong>
\nDeath will come. You and I both know
\nthat we move briefly, swiftly through
\nbefore we\u2019re gone. No more.
\nNo further chance to change or grow.
\nHaving so small a time, what must we do
\nto make the most of all that\u2019s now?
\nI\u2019ve seen so little of the world.
\nWe\u2019ll find where\u2019s most important to explore,
\nthen come back bronzed and reminisce,
\nwalk arm-in-arm and laugh together,
\ndrink good wine and make new music. Dare
\nto deepen, live at last, to risk
\nand so to love each other more
\nand \u2014 if we can \u2014 become more sure.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
\n3<\/strong>
\nDeath will come, and I\u2019m afraid. Only bravado
\ntalks of using well what\u2019s left, and though
\nI try to puzzle through the meaning
\nof so short a span, it can never be enough.
\nI am a mouth, all of me a mouth
\nthat shouts defiance, terror. I\u2019m clinging
\nto life. I want to go on and on. I know,
\nbut can\u2019t. I cower, hunker down.
\nI kick and hurl myself against the fact, trying
\nfor a way to grasp it. I feel a caving,
\nshrinking in my chest. It makes no sense.
\nI can change nothing. I find no recompense \u2014
\nexcept to change myself, but that I can\u2019t maintain.
\nAnd what of lives cut shorter, and in pain?<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
\n4<\/strong>
\nAll my life I\u2019ve been afraid of death,
\nnot accepting, not understanding.
\nNothing lasts, not health, not fortune.
\nWorth and meaning seemed to shrivel.
\nBut now I\u2019m closer with less life to live
\nI find to be arched round by death
\nfrees me from fuss about the trivial
\nannoyances, and I am joyful.
\nWe come unknowing, our time is brief,
\nand then we go. This wave we surf
\ncollapses on the shore in tiny bubbles,
\nmelting into sand and pebbles.
\nIf we live full, free, together, what difference
\nwhich beach we break on into silence?<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
\n5<\/strong>
\nWho am I fooling? This thing, death,
\nis blackout, total goneness. Final.
\nA living creature shouldn\u2019t know,
\nor feel it has a separate self. Earth
\nto earth, back to my emergence, my original.
\nI\u2019d be better off not conscious I must go.
\nMen, women, children, die in earthquake,
\nflood or fire, are killed in war,
\nstarve, trudge in broken lines, and sink
\nbefore they\u2019ve had a chance to make
\na life. And creatures everywhere are
\nput to death. I stand here on the brink
\nlike all those others gone and going,
\nin dread, ankles caressed by the shoals of the dead.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
\n6<\/strong>
\nWhen I walk in the fields I think how
\nI walk in my origins, my face their face,
\nmy life theirs. They have spread under weather,
\ncarried kingcups in floods from the river \u2014
\ngleamed round by blackthorn, no plough
\nsince farmed in strips, a Saxon trace.
\nThis river, every tree and grazing cow
\nI pass, the streets and houses, all in place
\nand time, are parts of me. They share my source.
\nBefore I was formed, before the land had shape,
\nwe were. We cast no shadow, took no space,
\ncompanions in the absence of a preset now
\nwith everything that was and is. We\u2019ve come
\ntogether here. And so I see myself in them.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Photos by SL Granum<\/em><\/p>\n

\n\n\n\n
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Back to December 2021 Newsletter Main Page<\/a><\/p>\n

Forty-Three<\/em> Newsletter \u2022 Number 512 \u2022 December 2021
\n<\/strong>Oxford Friends Meeting
\n43 St Giles, Oxford OX1 3LW<\/p>\n

newsletter@oxfordquakers.org<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Brighid Schroer A Six-Sonnet Sequence 1 I wonder what it would be like if I knew that we weren\u2019t going to die. I could be steady, enduring as a stone, not the flowed-through thing I am, moving briefly in and gone. And you and I would face each other, slow to change, no hurry with … Continue reading Death Sonnets<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":50,"featured_media":0,"parent":2097,"menu_order":3,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2117","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2117","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/50"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2117"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2117\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2249,"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2117\/revisions\/2249"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/2097"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2117"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2117"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oxfordquaker.com\/newsletter\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2117"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}