Thoughts of time
"I lost my lost saints in pieces. With some,
their voices eroded slowly then quickly like graveyards
on seaside cliffs crumbling into ocean. Some
began shaking: their hands, then arms, then legs.
Some stood up when they could not stand
and fell because it was too late for the miracles
they could not perform. Some waited too long
to see the doctor. All arrived at the hospital
too late. One did not return with the martins he loved
to the churches of Krakow. One unspooled
tire tracks in the snow like a long staff of sad music
the night he drove away to try to no longer be a saint.
Some turned out to be so evil they’ve been rewritten
as monsters, devils, people I wish I had never met."
I did not write this poem. The people in the poem have vanished amidst various shocks and upheavals. Yet, the poem itself is essentially about that very act of vanishing...Yet, the lines seemed to articulate my or perhaps our—own unspoken sentiments. Yes, I too have lost my kindred spirits, one by one. Those who were once within easy reach have now become distant stars, resting against the sky upon the mountain slopes. They say that all the stars of the night reside deep within the daylight; perhaps those lost souls of mine exist in that very way. The only difference is that I can no longer see them with my eyes. Though I may dip my feet in the water and feel its touch, I can no longer feel the touch of their affection. Such is the agony of being human: one must move forward, accumulating the experience of constantly losing people. Then, when the time comes to answer the final call, one must join the ranks of the lost. One day, I too shall leave behind this sea, those mountains, the company of the salt waters, and vanish... for to be lost is the destiny of humankind…
The poem is titled "My Lost Saints" and was written by James Davis May.

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