For my poetry pairing, I chose After Life by Joan Didion. It sparks remarkable afterthought of how fragile life is, and the importance of living it — because we all anticipate death, just not the moment of dying.
People measure life by the success of their journey, or by the accomplishments accrued from academics and advancements: The things an individual does soon defines them as breadcrumbs of ones worth or a résumé of one’s life; People may measure life as important moments: The times with friends enjoying a hot cup of coffee, or the awkward family gatherings which involved nothing but the silence as canny as prayers. However, It’s unsettling to imagine that none of these things will last because of one’s inherent humanity. After all, we’re only made of flesh and blood sowed by our parents, and as Joan Didion states: “Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends.” We can’t possibly imagine what dying is like until the instant it happens, and when it happens — It’s too late to question the things we should have while time was prevalent, and the sun would still set above the horizon. Death is a part of life, and in many ways, makes us vulnerable. Although, Death allows us to understand the scarcity of time, to cherish the subtlety of each moment, and to lose things we’ve never had.
The essay After Life by Joan Didion portrays the sudden inevitability of death, and how anyone can lose sight of tomorrow just as easily as time passes. It is riddled with the tragedy of death but –if one looks closely– welcomes the acceptance of life, and in that, a flourishment of beauty and opportunity.
I chose this picture because it correlates the essay and my poem. Death is inevitable, and it comes soon to some or later to others. When some die soon, the others might suffer. Furthermore, death is blind. By this, it may come unexpectedly and it doesn’t choose its victims.
This Mortal Coil
Death cradles Life like
a good death to
an end of
a bad life
or a good man
to a punishment
What is this mortal coil?
It is the endearment of pain
It is the curtain drawn before a good show could end
It is the death of Sisyphus, for his body moves but his faith is in vain.