The Poetry Of...
J.D. Heskin...........................................................................
OUR GOOD SOLDIER
We left him at the airline station--
hugged, kissed him, wished him well;
then drove home, our eyes still blinking,
but we were never really thinking
we had sent him off to hell.
SAINTSEARCHER
For six plus decades, I have held the self-given title of saintseacher,
and, hopefully, someday soon, I will find what I am looking for.
But so far, my effort has been a bust. That is, mainly, because
my standard is way, way up there. But isn't that what it's all about?
Don't get me wrong. I don't expect Jesuslike perfection.
He/she won't wear halos, walk on water, or turn crumbs into loaves.
He/she won't turn heads should one pass him/her on the street.
He/she won't gather assemblies, throngs, or multitudes.
He/she won't be the king, or the mother of a king.
He/she will probably wear bermuda shorts, or a sundress.
He/she will probably be a bore if one doesn't know he/she is a saint.
He/she will probably not notice me at first, so deep is his/her thought.
He/she will probably be adorned with an aura only a saintsearcher sees.
Anyone can be a saintsearcher, but, like saints, I have never known one.
LAST MOMENTS
May it be said that I died pushing a small child
to safety at the last second before I was crushed
by an oncoming vehicle. Despite the painfulness
of my injuries, my final words were: "Is she OK?"
Or, perhaps, in another scenario not as dramatic:
something like I died while speaking of world peace,
or, I was praying my children would lead useful lives.
Such are my hopes, but, in truth, it is rather unlikely.
An uncle of mine's last moment was the holding up
of a bottle of mosquito lotion, extolling its virtues,
and then dropping to the floor clutching his chest.
Not my idea of how to go, but there are worse ways:
like belittling or criticizing someone for something
which would probably be forgotten by day's end.
Or leaving with a lie on one's lips. For surely, in a life,
it is easier to be the fool, be foolish, say foolish things,
just by being ourselves in whatever moment we are in.
And though there is a lesson here somewhere, speaking
for myself, I doubt it will be heeded, even knowing one's
next breath might be the last breath. Our own lives go on,
seemingly forever, until death shows up, and when it does,
we are shocked to find that it doesn't much give a damn
about our last moments.
