Memento Mori
The mountain pass bedecked with stone,
The mossy steps all overgrown,
The skies in pastel apricot,
In ages nigh forgot.
A well appointed prince was I,
Below the transcendental sky,
The sylphs about me in the air,
With pirouetting flair.
The stream aside my roving course—
Exhaling bubbles, hemmed in gorse,
My treasure in a silver box,
With diamonds under locks.
The eventide in mellow poise,
With sibilants the only noise,
The airs of heaven hanging pure,
The garden’s sweet allure.
Then a figure through the trees,
A giant pacing by with ease,
A power in his spirit too,
A titan in my view.
Death the tender heart looked down,
His sack cloth raiment for a gown,
His scythe — a seesaw on his back,
His eyes prodigious black.
“I am as mighty as the storm,
A high and hallowed spirit form,
I pace the mountains where I will,
With majesty and skill.”
What is thy business here with me?
An otherworldly ministry?
What is thy message to mine ear?
Pray give it me, and clear.
“My prince! I’m tethered to thy fate!
Beyond the arch of heaven’s gate,
I see the forms of thee beyond,
The forest and the frond.
I see thy place in heaven, sir,
Above the cyprus and the fir,
The heaven that awaits ye man,
In monumental span.
Riches far beyond thy box,
In timeless cities, without clocks,
Wherein the joys of heaven last,
In ages endless vast.
Thou hast a portion in this place,
Thy name is there, thy precious face,
With minstrels singing, draped in lace,
Where cherubs fondly chase.
All I say is this, my friend,
The journey doesn’t ever end,
And fleeting moments on the earth,
Solidify thy worth.
And I’ll be there to carry thee,
Across the air, across the sea,
To rapture in thy house beyond,
Like magic from a wand.
And there installed with all enthralled,
To rapture in the heavens called,
Thy kingship shall arise anew,
The saints in awesome view.”
I offer thanks from in my deeps!
Thy silver tongue with gladness leaps!
Thy counsel is triumphal bright!
My heart jumps in delight!
I kiss the roses hanging here!
I banish sadnesses and fear!
I sing of future graces found,
Above this rocky ground.
I note thy promises of wealth,
A monarch standing, brave in health,
Before the courts of heaven’s keep,
With witnesses that weep.
I look ahead unto the time,
I find redemption, raised sublime,
Saluting thee, oh lonely death,
With reverential breath.
For now, the garden’s graces cheer,
The valley shining winsome clear,
I bid thy soul adieu and go,
To cabins in the snow.
Sleeping off thy portent made,
Within the crystal everglade,
Imagining the hopes beyond,
The forest and the frond.
adamdaniel 