I have to confess to a knee jerk reaction here. When I first read this prompt I thought that Judy Reeves (author of the prompt) was wanting me to write something disturbing.
What came to my mind was someone fantasizing about how their death would affect their friends and loved ones. I like to pass on morbid, narcissism when ever possible.
I decide to put on my detective hat and find out about Czeslaw Milosz. It turns out that he was a very interesting person after all.
I still don’t know much about him, and wouldn’t presume to write like him, if I could. I will just leave one of his poems here for you to decide.
Song on the End of the World by Czeslaw Milosz
On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A Fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it it should always be.
On the day the world ends
Women walk through fields under their umbrellas
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.
And those who expected lightning and thunder
Are disappointed.
And those who expected signs and archangels’ trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.
Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet,
Yet is not a prophet, for he’s much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
No other end of the world there will be,
No other end of the world there will be.
You can read more of his work here.
