Three Refuges in Dying

While this poem isn’t explicitly Aeonist, it has a somewhat Aeonist approach to death, taking comfort in mortality and the mortality of the universe itself, because they mean that even horrible suffering must come to an end. It does, I think, largely reflect a lot of my feelings about mortality.

“Three Refuges in Dying”
16 April 2019, in Catonsville, Maryland

I take refuge in my dying:
The mind and body both must fall and fail,
must come apart and become senseless things.
The pains and wants and fears of mortal life
will pass away, and suff’ring be no more.

I take refuge in the Ocean:
All ash and dust, all clay and rock will soon
erode and return to a common sea.
The sins that even blood may not redeem
will wash away in that eternal brine.

I take refuge in the Heat Death:
The final chaos that consumes all things
will bring an end to life and memory.
And so I know, whatever pain I feel,
I need not fear eternal calumny.