Requiem for Methuselah
09/03/03

How I cherish the solitude of the night. Sitting on my patio, I fill my brain's hungry neuro-transmitters with adequate doses of nicotine. While the fireflies sparkle in the darkness, beaming their hopes to the world beyond, I cast my soul forth to embrace the heavens and wander among the stars.

The woods beyond reverberate in a jubilee of life. The joyous songs of the crickets blend with the audacious symphony of frogs to give birth to a sweet rhapsody of harmony and peace.

But, the wind changes, and as the moon wanes, the rhapsody of the night is hushed, pierced only by the painful cry of a robin or the lonely call of a solitary whippoorwill.

For it is the time for the shadows. They scurry forth and in solemn procession they journey to the rivers edge to whisper a requiem for all the thousands of yesterdays that have been abandoned and forgotten. To remember only briefly the sorrows of a forsaken humanity.

"A Requiem for Methuselah"

But, there is no time to mourn and no comfort to be found inthe hollowness of today. For on the waters, a gaunt and haunting figure pushes his boat to the shore. He is the guardian of the underworld and cries, "A ride for a coin."

Spare change - anyone have any spare change? I need to journey across the river Styx but I have no change....but soon...it is too late and the boat is gone. Again I am left alone on the shore. Even the shadows hide and tremble...and all I hear is the gentle splash as the guardian guides his boat back across the water....and again I am left alone on the shore.

The quiet fills the air....shall we sing of sorrows or sonnets....a hymn or a soliloqouy....shall we celebrate a wake....or just whisper a requiem for Methuselah?

artwork: Visual Paradox