Monday, January 22, 2018
On the Other Side
From the Other Side
I wonder how it will be with us
when we meet on the other side
and look back on it all.
Which days will we remember,
which fall into the dustbin
that is the resting place of all things
not chosen.
Will it be that sudden kiss
from a stranger,
one that we welcomed
and returned.
Will it be that time in
the mountains,
she lying on the bed
of leaves and red berries,
oh, how splendid.
Will it be that day of exultation,
the dissertation finished at last,
the top of the pass reached,
what celebration within.
Will it be Greece,
the road rising toward Delphi,
the Maenads still romping
everywhere,
their spirits still alive
in the land,
awakening memories.
Or a picnic at night
in the forest,
the flames rising and
answering the stars,
scattering sparks like earth's own
luminous galaxy,
the rock circles around
the fire
splitting open with the heat.
Or maybe sitting quietly
with the others,
listening to the Beethoven
quartets in John's living room,
each one a blessing.
Which was best?
And of course
the unforgettable moment
of the Awakening,
Shiva pouring in,
almost too much to bear.
Almost too intense to recall.
Your head opening,
the realization.
The invisible Beloved
arriving.
And then that Mozart concert,
yourself a sounding board,
rapture indescribable,
were you going to levitate
at last?
Ineffable the word,
no way to capture in language.
How is it
that all these episodes
fused into a life,
yours,
some of which you remember,
some not,
all of it flowing
into a portrait
of who you were.
Dorothy Walters
January 20, 2018
