The Dying Gaul

  THE DYING GAUL

It has been a cloudy, cold, rain splashed day

And I, standing at the glass, watch rain fall

On the river “running down to the sea”;

Water on water running to water.

A man might think everything is water!

And then I turn away and see the rest:

The rocks, the trees, the bright budding flowers,

Chipmunks, birds, the rest including us

The only ones who are able to think

About all this, or simply to wonder.

At water’s edge, gone a full quarter mile,

A fallen tree lies in full death agony

At the land’s slowly disappearing edge —

Victim of the unrelenting river’s

Force and its endless march to sea.

Still on the shore, I see the dying tree

Nor yet, nor ever, will it reach its heights

Or know bright dawn, deep night, the seasons,

The years that will pass before its life ends.

The hurtling stream made sure it won’t be so.

How strange!  I am moved by this dying tree!

I see no tree but “Dying Gaul,” fallen

Victim, offering, a figure of Christ!

There are other such, thousands never seen,

Swept away in silence.  Begun, then done !

How should I think of these unfinished lives

Pulled out, carried on a cruel current

To the deepness of never having been.

I will no longer see a helpless limb

On the river float slow to the sea

Without seeing nor without mourning all

Whose lives, before they ever drew breath

Are broken in the womb and tossed away.

A great sadness entered me and will stay.

In this sweet world we have sour sorrow sown!

And no more will trees or running streams seem

Ought but fear to me and deep pain.

Such dark things should never have to be

But have we not made so that very thing?

We end life without a single thought now

And drop its remains down into the deep,

Turn and walk away.  Life’s lost, and we sleep!

Alone, who sees all, for all his children,

 The FATHER weeps!

                                  FIN

We were in Rome some longish time ago.  And that is where we saw the statute which is called The Dying Gaul.  The photo here is of a “dying” tree in the river near my home.  I walk past it practically every day, and watch it sink, lower and lower, every day.  It reminded me of the statue, especially when I thought of the place it was in.

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April 27, 2022