6th Poemonday

And Death Shall Have No Dominion



Because it’s Monday, and I definitely owe you one for sticking with me through these lean times. Dylan Thomas and his joie de vivre have always fascinated me, his indescribable desire to consume life whole. This poem is fitting, for so many things are dying, ending and beginning. I have to remember that it also means growth, and especially that “though lovers be lost love shall not…”

Time moves on in an irrepressible arc, slowly and then fast and then catching you up at once to bring you into the future that you waited for, hoped for, dreaded, tasted but never dreamed might be possible and it’s more different than you could have believed. I’m a kaleidoscope of emotion. I’m worried about the future, I’m not sure what is going to happen; where I will end up?  Will I be happy? Will I ever have the things I can’t begin to reveal, because wanting them now makes me so uneasy?

I used to feel like everything was known and planned forever into oblivion. Now it’s just up to me to make this work, to take life and make it my own. To live, to laugh, to run, to sweat, drink wine and cook, dance in the kitchen to New Order,  stay up late and look at the stars, to lay on the grass and watch the clouds, to eat a simple dinner alone, to make new friends, to be somewhere different, to finally be ok with being different and to know that what I want is enough.


It is enough, and death shall have no dominion over it.



And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan’t crack;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion

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