Requiem to a Dreamer

A small group sat under the carport. Birds sang in the corkscrew willow. The firepit drew the friends in close containing the warmth on this cool fall day.

The eldest daughter stood up and spoke. “Memento mori, Remember, that you have to die.” This was a wake, they were awake.  

“Mom always did her best to support us.  She was a generous friend, and a loving sister, who did her best to accept and support others.

Mom deviated from the shadow of the family tree. She cut from her family’s deep roots, not in rebellion, but to pursue her quest of personal growth.

Yet, Mom often said she was still attached to the underground network , that like  a mycorrhizal network from the central hub of the large old mother tree, preferentially provides physical, emotional and spiritual supports to help saplings and send distress signals to neighbors.”

The younger daughter spoke. “Mom explored her own ideas, but the marriage to her beloved husband substantiated them suggesting that humans can tap into the quirky, quantum world, full of quarks with colour, flavour, ups and downs, tops and bottoms, strangeness and charm.

She met him after writing a wish list, of what she wanted in a partner. Before meeting him, Mom drew his likeness from an image she saw in the grounds of coffee. His wife, who had died, came in a dream and requested that she take care of him. Her hair stood on end minutes before she knew she was going to meet him. I saw when the light in their eyes locked. That lightning strike molded them together.”

The eldest continued, “Mom’s legacy honours a lifetime of work that supports her beloved’s exploration of the unity of mathematics and physics.  His fame, associated with physical biochemistry, matched his intuition, empathy and keen sense of decorum. He said that they shared a common denominator: the ability to harness the power of the weakest, littlest forces that allows for rare and real connections.”

The youngest concluded,“The transmission of information is like that of energy;  it decreases by 90% as it passes through each trophic levels. But weak interactions are powerful.

Mom left this poem to express the song in her heart. The stanzas are divided so you can each read a part.”

Each member of the group read their parts.

This self-written eulogy considers what many ignore, reject or seems incomprehensible. What happens during the repose of the deceased, after the death sentence that is inevitable.

Writing a waka, in Zen Jisei tradition, this warrior monk explores life’s impermanence with universal chi spunk.

 In haiku: Yin yang fishes swim. They bid farewell  at the bridge. Effortless action.  In stillness they part. Their waves create and destroy. The sands of time shift.

 Magical realism is imbedded in literature and myth, and stored within mathematical, scientific and technological pith. The Arts  express the gifts of humanity, married with science they can decrease insanity.     

The boundaries of words exceed logic. In sorites’ paradox speech. A  grain must be defined as a heap, be it wisdom or sand on a beach. If one grain of does not make a heap, then two grains or a million also don’t. Some people consider Death is such a vague concept, while others won’t.

Most people believe death marks the definite end of something, but even in a vacuum there is an eternally vibrating spring.

At the moment of conception, outside forces of spirit, unite into a time-limited self. Death releases the physical parts to outside forces, but the spirit is never still or put on a shelf.

We each hold a tune that tends to b natural, but when we literally return down to the earth we become a  minor force that  tends to b flat, creating a resolution that removes mirth.

Robert Lewis Stephenson, Mozart, Johnny Cash and others  wrote their own death song, This “Requiem to a Dreamer”describes the antiparticle,  what is left when matter is gone.  

The answer to what happens after death is not proven or easy to find. We are left to listen to the sacred feminine that joins heart, gut and mind.

The primordial mother, referred to in ancient art and religious texts,  has very little to do with gendered sex.  A bacterial symbiote lives in the mitochondria of females and  males, where they call home. They are transmitted by maternally derived RNA , with  genetic material different from the X chromosome.

This threnos honours the sacred feminine who, even as dust in a grave,  offers woven bundles of threads that alter the wave.

Hidden in the darkness, left by passing light streams, distant memories awaken in dreams.  The Fairy Godmother becomes the Ego. She helps the dream seeds grow.

 During the Fairy Godmother reign, she becomes one with the Superego Princess Golinda and her companion Gallopatrot, the Id, reptilian dragon brain.

The three in one are part of the infinite flow, that controls where mental or physical energy go.

A death always leaves a gap. Reassemble life’s broken course using this map.

When challenges appear heed the dream feeder who whispers in your subconscious’ ear.

Follow principles of an old creed.  Harmonize disconnected forces and avoid evils like greed.  

Study and work hard to find self-realization. Be  true to yourself and help others  to go beyond expectation.

When what is, is not as wished for, it is best to use radical candour. Observe what you think you know,  then follow the flow.

Echoes of repeating fractals ripple along the cosmic web. When waves meet, they stand, superimpose or annihilate creating an ebb.

The sacred feminine is a dream weaver.  She resonates echoes to be used as a lever.

She who once held particles has become antiparticles.

Antiparticles, based on fact and possibilities, hold energy that transcends borders of time,  beyond life and death extremities.

May this message offer you a glimmer of peace. Feel loved, as you face life, that is full of caprice.