House of Death

Stanza from Thanotopsis

or

"Meditation on Death"

by 

William Cullen Bryant

So live, that when thy summons comes to join

The innumerable caravan which moves

To that mysterious realm where each shall take

His chamber in the silent halls of death,

Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,

Scourged by his dungeon; but, sustain'd and soothed

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

This post may have too much reality.  I've always been struck that Bryant wrote this poem at age 17 with such poignancy about "the question" in life.  How do we go to the house of death and lie down with "unfaltering trust" for "pleasant dreams?"  The poem implies a source for that trust. I have always wondered if he meant for us to seek and name that source of trust for ourselves.  

 

So, with apologies to that poet, I wrote my own response to  “Thanatopsis” called “River-Riders.”  I tried to be more direct about the source for that trust.  See how it works for you. 

River-Riders

Either this life makes sense

or perfect nonsense.

Ech generation rides the river

to the falls to vanish forever,

or carried by grace to the

Garden only God could give us,

to grow beyond what we ever

deserve or desire or dream,

from the everlasting flow of life,

that begins and ends and

then begins again in the God,

who we discover is the river. 

We have to discover our own answers if they are to work for us.  For me, it was to recognize that the "caravan" toward death was really the River of Life itself which continues in the Garden (metaphorically) which God intends for us.  Or, like the birds of the air who simply trust the air as the place where they truly fly with an unfaltering trust.