The presence of life (Presencia de la vida)

Lately I have been reflecting about the gravity of death and thinking about what it means to grow old, the need for certainty in life and mundane things like life insurance and superannuation, even mortgages.  This poem from my Dad’s book The window and the star (La ventana y la estrella) suggests a kind of stoic view of death, an unconditional surrender to it in life, without fear, with complete resignation.

The presence of life (Presencia de la vida)

I have found the roads in other occasions

travelled in the shadow and forgotten.

I have found the stairs that take you

to eternal, luminous realities.

I have broken ties that used to anoint me

and powerful, would fold the back of my neck.

In freedom my voice touches the skies

and my lips are pure for the hymn.

I acknowledge in everything the presence

of a pair of eyes watching tirelessly.

I see now the human side in His

wing in ascending flight, stopped.

I, who searched for pleasure in caresses.

I, who travelled through tunnels of hatred.

I, who turned my tunic into rags.

I, who ignored the human nature in His name.

I, who denied, denying to myself,

the sweetness of His subtle dominion,

understand in its exact dimension

the human vagueness of sadness

and the melancholy of other hours.

Ah! I pictured LIFE as what DEATH is

and made of DEATH my own confines!