Legacy Blog: "A Prayer for the Dead"
“A Prayer for the
Dead”
What is of
value, I say? The rise of dawn? The break of day?
I am reminded of the biblical
prayer, the De Profundis:
“Out of the depths I have cried
to thee. Lord, Lord hear my voice.”
As I shelter in place, am I safe?
Does anyone hear my voice?
The real query is: What do I
value in my life? What is accessible behind the wall in the safe locked tightly
containing my possessions?
Rationally, I know the
science. I’ve paid attention to the
incessant admonitions about the so-called 30%. But
what do I believe in my heart? How can I
wrap my head around the carnage beset against those numberless souls?
At this moment in time, I see the
metaphor of 100,000 people, nameless, filling a large sports stadium, sitting
silent, their voices absent. They were
not safe. But they were of value. Someone’s father, mother, sister, brother,
aunt, uncle, grandmother, or grandfather.
The indescribable anonymity of those lost, suffering souls who died the
solitary death of isolation is literally unimaginable.
The pain and suffering of those
left behind.
We are history. And history should always be written within
the context of people. The writers are
the historians of this time. The word on
the page is what is of value and which survives the author. The essayist will breathe the obligatory, historical
consciousness onto the folio of everlasting life, a chronicle and narrative of an
extraordinary account, writ large.
The living, breathing word is
what will be treasured, remembered, and forever valued by the souls who
discover our precious occupations.
Another holocaust.
Comments