soliloquy in white

white capped mountains, snow falling too heavily
bright red blood on the tree, too much
the inanimate body was being covered too quickly
help me, I'm lost, I can't move!
it's too early to die and the blizzard won't wait
for someone to come
what a folly this invisible dove gray ski suit!
it's been too long since I've said I love you
too long since I've really laughed out loud
too long since I've dared to participate in living
to do the lifetime of things which are escaping my control…
they come quickly now, pale visions of my own valor
no acts of heroism, no merit awards or trophies
I've done nothing outstanding yet --
dammit, give me a chance!
but how proud of my children I have been!
I know I have spread goodness to the lives of those
who will not be here on my snowy tomb
to say farewell, to share a last embrace…
images running at helter skelter speed through my head
they should stop, I'm not ready to die!
they blur with the totality
of all that I have already forgotten about my life
and in this last moment I see
who I really have been, the escaped potential
wasted in the daily humdrum of just existing
yet this cannot be the last moment
it can't be as banal as a skiing accident
an immobile skiing suit blending too quickly
into the whiteness marking the end of my life
will there be a ceremony
with roses that were red and white?
white linen shirt, red silk tie
they always said I seemed so dignified
where is the dignity in this stupid exit?
will I find the brilliant light
many discover before the whiteness of
Saint Peter's beard and flowing robe
the ethereal puffy clouds
angel's wings
is it already my turn to become one?
no, I won't allow either the eternal redness of hell!
it's too early to take one chance or the other!
fifty-five, sudden death in the mountains
possessed by the folly of proving my manliness
tripped up by testosterone pride
I am not yet ready to say my farewells
the suddenness has taken so much potential
too quickly from an existence not yet fulfilled
no! it is too early
bloody broken legs, concussion from tree trunks
an invisible stain in the majesty of soft whiteness
will the end come quickly?
no, I must not renounce, it's too early to abandon
that's not the way a man dies fighting!

high-powered binoculars
tiny red spot, blood on a tree
the helicopter let down it's rope
the soliloquy in white would become
a multitude of multicolored conversations
about love and friendship
and all the things that had never been said



soliloquy in white
12 march, 2006