‘ “Then death shall be chosen rather than life by all
the residue of those who remain of this evil family, who remain in all the places where I have driven them, ” says the LORD of hosts’. – Jer. 8:3
I’ve realized through time and seasons
Of my sojourn on the surface of the earth:
Humanity’s response to life and death.
How by simple remembrances we find our easing.
When one dies, O how they trumpet
How we sing his praise.
A stature in his honour we raise
Giving a minute of silence to pay our respects.
Check out how we broadcast his good works
We forget and release offences done
(because after all, he’s dead now, right?)
The trumpet sound of the forgotten’s heard by his death bed.
But why does this happen?
What’s happened?
Though we disagree, yet this remains true:
In our subconscious, this great abnormality we do.
We acknowledge death than we do life
And the effect of a loss than the blessings of a gain
We treasure the materials of precious memory
Than the priceless provisions of the present.
Why this? I’m not sure.
Continually, this mystery abounds.
Hear this; stand fast:
What will you wish when I’m gone?
But blow my trumpet while I’ve breathe
Love and respect me while I’m present
For all you’ll do when I’m gone
Would mean much more while my light’s on.
Dance for me now and sing my song
Make a broadcast and say it all.
Share my testimony before my bell’s rung
I’m here; I’m still here; still to answer the call.
Value my present, it’s all we have
As for when I’m gone, you’ll have me no more
But each thing you’ll remember and hold fast.
And though I’ll be gone, yet I’ll live on.
Celebrate life!
Celebrate the living
Celebrate me, now.
Now, not when I’m gone.
–James George
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©The writings James George 2018
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