Resuce The Dead

Rescue The Dead

Finally, to forgo love is to kiss a leaf,

is to let rain fall nakedly upon your head,

is to respect fire,

is to study a man’s eyes and his gestures

as he talks,

is to set bread upon the table

and a knife discreetly by,

is to pass through crowds

like a crowd of oneself.

Not to love is to live.

To love is to be led away

into a forest where the secret grave

is dug, singing, praising darkeness

under the trees.

To live is to sign your name,

is to ignore the dead,

is to carry a wallet

and shake hands.

To love is to fish.

My boat wallows in the sea.

You are free,

rescue the dead.

David Ignatow (b. 1914)

Mine is not to interpret this for you but just to put it out there.  Take from this what you will.  Rescue the DeadPeace, Tenthltr2U