HOW DOES IT HAPPEN?
How does it happen when we die?
Do we all move in a crowd towards God?
Thomas Merton pictured crowds of people
like prisoners or displaced people being
moved from station to station from far
countries - all those people who died this
night from all around the world. He
pictured Hemingway - walking that walk -
shuffling those steps - after he shot himself.
How does it happen? What happens next?
Do all these little kids crowd
around Adam Lanza and hold him till he
lets go of whatever it was that killed him
and them. I don’t know how all this
horrible stuff happens. Like everyone
I don’t know how someone could kill a child
or anyone else, including themselves.
How does it happen? How, God, how?
© Andy Costello, Reflections,
2012
AN ELEGY FOR ERNEST HEMINGWAY
Now for the first time on the night of your death
your name is mentioned in convents, ne cadas in
obscurum.
Now with a true bell your story becomes final.
Now men in monasteries, men of requiems,
familiar with the dead,
include you in their offices.
You just stand anonymous among thousands,
waiting in the dark at great stations
on the edge of countries known to prayer alone,
where fires are not merciless, we hope,
and not without end.
You pass briefly through our midst.
Your books and writings
have not been consulted.
Our prayers are pro defuncto N.
Yet some look up, as though
among a crowd of prisoners
or displaced persons, they recognized
a friend once known in
a far country.
For these the sun also rose
after a forgotten war
upon an idiom
you made great.
They have not forgotten you.
In their silence you are still
famous,
no ritual shade.
How slowly this bell tolls in a monastery tower
for a whole age, and for the quick death
of an unready self!
For with one shot the whole hunt is ended!
- Thomas Merton ©