DEATH Poem: ODE TO MY DROWNING BROTHER, by Jonina Moreira

O dear drowning brother,
I warn you of the coming disasters
That rain ash on your village
Heat kettles in your lungs, and
Mark your psycho-soul onto a
Nautical chart, thrashing, thrashing
In the emptiest place.

O dear damned brother,
The waves break on the sun struck shores
And pull china dolls and army men into their currents,
And Christ and Vishnu and every animal god
All wash out of memory
Like wine stains in salt water.
You are sensitive to this, I know, you see
Everything glowing in the firelight beneath the cities, feel
Everywhere enough space around you to raise your
Arms and fall any which way.

O dear death brother,
It’s all about the altars, isn’t it?
It’s all about the choirs reaching harmony
And the children sleeping like angels —
Is that a migraine buzzing in my temple
Or the low tenor of God?

O dearest brother,
Remember the crucifix pitched above your baptism?
Polymer Saviour, bloody and true, life sized —
And he did not meet any eyes,
He looked to the stained glass window,
To the world, to the walls of the tacky holy place
And pictured in that moment he is as faithless
As I, on the threshold of those unending nights,
Infinite winters and dead seas.

O dear deserted brother,
The mountains cast their shadow
On your place of prayer,
But they have no intent to speak of.
It’s just the order of things.
And I love you even when
I have lost myself in cruelty,
And I love you even as we drown
Certain that love will die with us.

O dear disaster brother
It is my pleasure to witness your madness,
It is my pleasure to join you
In the muddy thrashing dances and the firecrackers
At midnight, the boat rides where in tandem,
We row out of time and space and
Drift into the void between the stars
Where creation slumbers.