Most everything
has a last time
But I don't live
as if this is true
Am I just stupid
or in denial
sometimes
I think
both
If tomorrow
you gave me an orange
and you told me
this is it
the last orange
you will
ever
hold
ever
smell
ever
taste
How
I ask
How would you . . .
That
is how
I
want
you
4 comments:
And how! ;-) How unique, original, absolutely scrumptious.
Lucila, your kindness is noted and appreciated. Thank you. :-)
Fascinating thought, not the idea of lasts so much or the philosophy of living every moment as though it is the last, but the clear definition of a particular, the call to imagine specifically an orange brings forth a flood of appreciation for this zesty, aromatic, fresh, orange, enlivening fruit and therein lies the stroke, and purpose. Say that word, orange. Even there! I wonder, just pondering, if it isn't self-preservation or for the general good, peace of mind, that we allow ourselves to become complacent, to have expectation that there will be more of the same, on the one hand it dulls appreciation but on the other, could we stand to live so closely with everything that we taste and see and hear and do and feel, I don't know that there is basis in that, but I imagine to some extent there would be paralysis, that it would curb somehow hope, desire, movement. Perhaps as with all good things, in this case the doctrine of living every moments as were it the last, something that is entirely desirable, moderation is a good thing too. Disturbing ponderings aside, disturbing for they go against beliefs long since established, and to the matter in hand so to speak, which is this superb (unique, original, scrumptious, completely agree) piece of writing, the call to imagine, so redolent through the suggestion of lasts, the desire to taste and touch, to bite into a succulent wedge, to feel and taste its juice upon the tongue, summer and orchards and lovers and life and birds and joy and sweetness (just to name a few of the immediate associations with that imagined taste, not always present, at least until this poem for with it you have created awareness heightened conscious appreciation, with the real thing) is overwhelming. And those bothersome ponderings truly are left behind on the road side as one reaches the final words of this poem as one is reminded, has been reminded, that the giving of oneself completely to the moment, to the task in hand, to the person will reveal the greatest reward, so to speak. Ambrosial and enlightening, awesome.
We only understand the general in the specific. We understand great tragedy only in the individual case, for the whole cannot be comprehended. In a way, this is a variation on when sleeping sleep, when eating eat so on and so forth. Easier said than done.
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