all the difference :
one life makes all
the difference.
and, knowing that Love
stitches galaxy to galaxy,
and everything,
together,
remember who they are.
And let us remember the name – Starward. Because I know of no one, over the many years… who gives as great as he… of his soul, of his mind, of his time, and of his dedicated contribution – as this one shining star.
And I can’t possibly tell you, how many dark mornings I’ve woke to with no hope for humanity, where this man has left me a beautiful soulful comment, or an exchange of personal messages – and given me a new trail of light, to get me through my day.
always loved Kant:
The Categorical Imperative is a worthy modus operandi, and a maxim worthy of universal law. It is however, but a rippling reverberation – of do onto others. A resounding echo of that very principle. The state of the world, is what it is – because we are far-removed from it.
Thank you for the comment,: Thank you for the comment, and for understanding what I was attempting to present in the poem. Although I have lost no one to the kind of violence described in the poem, I still mourn the failures in my life to acknowledge and accept the truth; and, in my old age, it is one of the most haunting of my disappointments. Expressing that through the poem's speaker, and then allowing him to find hope among those circumstances, also helps me to reconnect as well. Thank you for reading and commenting.
Right away, a piercing image: Right away, a piercing image is formed as the first lines suggest pangs of survivor outrage over the "forty-nine years" that were ruthlessly stolen from the beloved while the speaker dies a slow and natural death.
What made this vehicle of heart-crumbling loss and rocketing love engaging for me was the mechanics of the poem as much as the awe-inspiring contemplations. An agile stream, crossing the boundaries of formal syntax, applying enjambment like a pro and roaming widely like an old man's irrepressible thoughts and longings, it was an ascending, musical, appropriate background for the highly charged moment at the tombstone.
If this were only a story about grief, it would be moving and beautiful enough, but you went beyond the cliches and challenged the power of time itself as the old man decreed: "Yawning and gaping, the maul of the/ grave will receive my carcass, but not my/ love for you . . ."
Then the quality of that love, "ensconsed so far/ beyond the stars", is investigated and found to be unrivaled by Earthly concerns as it travels inward and outward, reaching both subatomic and astronomical proportions, in other words, beyond the known universe. This could only be possible if the concept of "spirit" was brought into the equation, resulting in the rare type of encounter when the "exquisite coalescence our souls converged/ through the gravitated attraction to each other".
A metaphysical victory. Wondrous!