I believed Great Gig in the Sky was about the thunder;
the more urgent the voice, the closer the storm.
Once I realized a woman sang because she awoke,
no longer amongst the living,
I have been unable to separate all thunder from death.
Maybe I shouldn’t feel so overwhelmed when I listen to it,
or laugh when my mother says my soul lies in the past.
Maybe I should be able to distinguish a ballet in the sky
from an argument between death and the living.
I shouldn’t shame the sky for holding the audible souls.
I don’t know where I am going with this,
or maybe I am just afraid that it will be mistaken for a suicide note.
Honesty is acceptable until it is questioned,
but I think there is a difference between wanting to die
and not being afraid of dying,
and I have been too inspired to slip out of myself.
The thunder is now a rescue call to draw another breath,
and this summer has been full of storms.
I have forgiven my mind and a muffled voice
for convincing me of a darkness I’ve never wanted.
Maybe now I am satisfied with the uncertainty of an immeasurable lifespan,”
and believing that ‘any time will do’,
or maybe I am content with watching the gig in the sky
from right here on the ground.
Alessia Di Cesare, I Shouldn’t Shame The Sky For Holding The Audible Souls
“And I am not frightened of dying. Any time will do, I don’t mind. Why should I be frightened of dying? There’s no reason for it – you’ve got to go sometime.”
— Gerry O’Driscoll,