The 60-Second Sabbath

death

  • When I Lost My Parents

    When I lost my parents(as in death, not in the grocery store)I questioned the purposeof their life's creative output:    my mother's needlework;    my father's woodworking;    my mothers hand-written, stained recipe cards;    my father's watercolor paintings of… Continue reading

  • Otherworldy Relief

    I have not considered suicide,but I do see death as a welcome friend,the opportunity to stop,the opportunity to know what really mattered. Wisdom and deatharrive arm in arm–two drinking buddiesexiting the pub,laughing heartily at a jokeonly they understand. At long last,so… Continue reading

  • Reflections on Good Friday

    Good Friday.Tenebrae.Encroaching darkness,stillness. We gather to acknowledge loss–the loss of Christ on the cross,that great loss that echoes, honors, confirms our own.Tonight wraps us in loss.Tonight we wear the cloak of loss.Tonight darkness sweeps the earth    without the promise… Continue reading

  • Easter, 2012

    Mostly I saw it coming:the suicidal thoughts in the garden,the affectionate betrayal of a best friend,the whipping, the mocking,the exhausting trudge through the gauntlet of spittle,the thorns, the nails, the spear,absolute abandonment,that cold slab in the endless, empty dark.Yes, I expected… Continue reading

  • Good Friday, 2012

    Nowseewhatyou'vegoneanddone? Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. (With thanks to Jim.)   Continue reading

  • Forty Years

    I've been toldthe spirits of the deadlinger for forty years,grieving their own passing. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.   Continue reading

  • Screen Door

    From where I sit at the worn oak tablein the center of the kitchenat the heart of the house,I see the sunset–orange, gold, red, yellow–perfectly framed in the warped screen doorleading to the back porch,where the railing leans outward,and the… Continue reading

  • My Hope

    My hope? That death bringsa return to the Womb: quiet,darkness,warmth. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading

  • This Garden

    This garden,hidden up the hillabove the oldest gravestones,has a gate but no fence. I enter through the gate,though it means extra stepsaround the overgrown perimeter. This gardenis lush with silver leaves–no flowers, no buds preparing to open,    no dried… Continue reading

  • To Die of Tenderness

    Is it possibleto die of tenderness? At times my heart so fillswith unexpected kindnessthat I fear it may burst. So many poets–with frightening beauty–bring to vivid lifethe inevitability of death. And then, in a second's time,I witness such delicate sweetness:one… Continue reading