Panegyric for Death

Mussel Shell by Richard Reeve

A convoluted theory

poured from the radio,

decrying the current

cultural fixation

with certainty.

We need room for mystery!

A mandate to breath in our doubts,

drink down our yearning

for negative capability.

The claim (seems simple enough):

dark matter strewn throughout the universe,

by implication throughout

our-very-selves,

a crossroads,

our intersection

with another dimension.

I’m not sure what to do with that

but leave it here in this poem.

Let us lift then, a tiny cup

tossed up with the tide

amongst piles of detritus

strewn across this beach.

Though not nearly enough to quench this thirst,

it will have to do.

Let us sip rain water from a shell.

A toast to dark matter!

Obscura Materia,

Our Lady of the Portal,

Our Black Madonna,

Certainty sown through uncertainty,

She that awaits us all.

7 thoughts on “Panegyric for Death

  1. Interesting. Yes the need to control our life, to make certain all things. Because uncertainty is too difficult. But ride the wave of uncertainty is what life tries to teach us. Then we can be certain that we can handle it

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