The Web Poetry Corner - Joris John Heise - The Meaning of Corpses Is Life
The Meaning of Corpses Is Life
Joris John Heise
We bury half-stiff cats in backyard holes,
Feel absence of a father whose cold hand
We touch before they close the coffin lid.
Small children miss their cozy grandma’s smile--
Her gentle generosity a great, gone hole—
But all deaths mark defeats of cheery love.
True hope means not that Grandma will come back,
But that she lives—and that she lives right now,
In "cozy" we ourselves become—her life
Inside of us as stirred as fertile spring,
Untied, unleashed and hungry to form good,
Her generosity, our blood; her strength, our truth.
Good God breathes breath from noble souls into us,
Transforms their deaths to feel refreshing start—
Yes, dead cats can wake dead us to March.
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