“Memento Mori” isn’t always too macabre
But it is truth we’d rather not touch.
A stack of books with skull atop
Reminds that one will never read so much,
And what’s the use if knowledge isn’t used?
“Memento Mori” means we’re not confused
About all of mankind’s eventual end,
Nor the type of life to which we ought to tend.
This post is for Fandango’s Flashback Friday. The poem below was written / originally posted on August 27, 2019. It was inspired by the picture below, which was part of another challenge. Today, I would have preferred to post something not-sad, but this poem was the best one from the last few August 27ths.
I wasn’t going to post this, but what the heck; here is my response to the MVB prompt: Follower.
Note: in the poem I say “4 or 6 weeks” — that’s the amount of time between severe depressive symptoms. The milder yet no less discouraging (sometimes devastating) symptoms happen 5 or 6 days a week for me. That’s not to say every moment of those harder days is terrible; I often have sincere gratitude for several things by the time the day is over. But it’s really hard, if I’m being honest.
Anyway, on to the poem! This is free-verse.
For Fandango’s Flashback Friday, I am sharing a haibun that I wrote 3 years ago, since August 6th is both the anniversary of the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan, and it is the feast of the Transfiguration, when Jesus goes up on a mountain with Peter, James, and John and is “transfigured” so that they are briefly able to see Jesus’s divinity revealed. The original post is here.
In an island nation in the Pacific, a city is transfigured in a flash of light — complete destruction in an instant.
On a mountain in the Middle East, Jesus is transfigured in a flash of light — our hope of glory and eternal life.
Oh God, transfigure hearts — that we may find and bring peace.
Change may come slowly: Tiny blossoms’ aroma, While snowfall lingers