The Natural Order of Things

Gabriel, drinking from the fountain of love, imagined
dying hand in hand with Sara,
of old age, dying of longing.
In that one millisecond without her,
without Sara, he died, in utter solitude.

Today, her future is all bright lights. His is disarray.
Poor Gabriel, that sad old fool, he’ll die alone one day.
And so, he thinks it’s wise to keep the windows open wide,
so the stench of the dead might bring the neighbors to his side.

You will bury your parents,
and you will cry over the natural order of things.
And you will ask: is that the most useless of all cries?
The cry over the natural order of things?
But why does the natural order of things hurt so much?

Maybe it would be better to cry over dying without Sara.
She won’t cry for Gabriel either.
And perhaps crying over other things
has some sentimental value.

But Sara will die with someone else, someday,
and he will mourn that one second
that was meant to be Gabriel’s.

Perhaps that is life’s ultimate blessing:
to die alone, Gabriel, without bothering anyone
and let the others deal with it.

That is Gabriel’s natural order.