Copyright (c) 1997 First Things 75 (August/September 1997):.
Before I die I’d like
to understand this world.
(I grow ambitious as I read my words.)
While mind remains I want
to trace the moral circuit
that lights the star-laced universe,
that golden thread
with a core of steel
drawn taut through time
to the far frontier of mortal reach,
seeking the infinite
of our finite thought,
the polar star that some
call God.
André Ryerson
| Death is the night watch The waiter, the wanter Death is the break The wake of the sleeping |
death is the waker, the watcher of sleep. death is the breaker, the waking of sleep. |
| Down in the hole Down in the hole The frost on his fingers The blood of the sparrows |
the creaker is turning. he starts up awake. cracks in his yearning. streaks on his face. |
| The flinch of the doe The twitch of the owl Death is the sudden The shudder, the stutter |
as she drinks at the river, the flutter of mice: shrill in the shiver, the stand-still of night. |
| Down in the hole The belly, the bone-home Down in the hole The clutch of the bellman |
the hunger is calling, the empty of earth. the sleeper is falling: the caller to church. |
| Death is the night watch The waiter, the wanter Death is the break The wake of the sleeping |
death is the waker, the watcher of sleep. death is the breaker, the waking of sleep. |
J. Bottum
I should have deadened the street with straw,
I should have stopped the bedroom clock
and stilled the doorbell chimes with crepe,
I should have brought him quinine bark,
exotic simples packed in teak,
I should have had Te Deums sung
with banks of candles, cloistered nuns
to say their beads before he died.
Before he died, he should have known
his son would hire muffled drums
,his son would shroud his house in black,
he should have known his son would find
the cassocked priests to chant his Mass,
he should have known the sable horse
and raven hearse would trundle past
the silent parks and shuttered shops.
I should have told him weeping men
would dim the street like mourning clouds,
I should have knelt beside his bed
and said in life we are in death,
I should have told him sons survive
to keep their father’s death alive.
J. Bottum