The Death of Two Men

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Two men died on Sunday

Both in their sixties

But worlds apart.

Worlds that would probably vehemently collide

If they met in person.

One a pastor

Devoted to his conservative Iowa church

Seeing the world through hymns, mission fields, absolutes and tightly held beliefs

          the Word of God in its stark form on the pages of a bound Bible.

The other a gay New Yorker

Once a fixture of the fashion scene

In charge of advertising red lips, air brushed eyes and selling images of unattainable beauty

          who left that world to live life on a yoga mat.

Immersed in the ancient asanas and pranayama practices

Passing along the union of sun and moon.

Both beloved by their people.

Both knowing death from their perspective.

Both perhaps understanding happiness through their lens.

One had time to gather the gifts of letting go, one foot in hospice, the other stretching

          to the future, like Hanuman’s giant leap to the Himalayas in search of a healing herb.

The other, in an instant, met death gripping his heart on the steps of the Lord’s house,

          after preaching a sermon.

And now?

Are they sitting together with a knowledge of love that we only get glimpses of,

glimmers, sparkles that disappear into the shadows of fear, the divisions of other?

Do they shake their heads sadly, observing us?

Can they send some collective enlightenment, to pierce our tarnished armor?

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New York-based storyteller, actress, writer and musician Navida Stein writes plays, stories, poetry, adaptations for the stage and reviews theater for an online arts magazine. As a performer, she has worked Off-Broadway and regionally. Her storytelling/solo performances include both traditional tales and personal stories. She lives in a tiny Hell’s Kitchen studio with her husband, a piano, a violin, many books and too many yoga props. She believes in being perpetually curious.

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