Pilot Light - for Blanche |
I was eating lunch the other day when I started to think of death. I don’t know why. Suddenly it filled the room like the smell of gas escaping. All those stories of people on the brink brought back to life. Telling of the incredible peace they experienced. Something beyond words. And, odd as it seems, it was with resentment they recalled the hands of the doctor, deep in death’s coma, struggling to pull them back. We get thrown into this world cold turkey without memory or longing for the time before. Strange, isn’t it? It’s from mystery we sprang, warm in our mother’s womb. Springs pushed out of the mattress. And we spend a lifetime faithful to the laws of thermodynamics returning to our original shape. A state of rest. Oh, then it came to me, she said. Not the incredible peace but a small flame of excitement like a pilot light. -Art Goodtimes |