We are dying, we are dying, so all we can dois now to be willing to die, and to build the shipof death to carry the soul on the longest journey.
A little ship, with oars and foodand little dishes, and all accoutrementsfitting and ready for the departing soul.
Now launch the small ship, now as the body diesand life departs, launch out, the fragile soulin the fragile ship of courage, the ark of faithwith its store of food and little cooking pansand change of clothes,upon the flood's black wasteupon the waters of the endupon the sea of death, where still we saildarkly, for we cannot steer, and have no port.
Discovering this fragment of D.H. Lawrence's poem 'The Ship of Death' in Grayson Perry's The Tomb Of The Unknown Craftsman at the British Museum reminded me of the importance of the metaphorical power of science fiction. Something so often forgotten, these days, when too often it's mistaken for a literal report on the future.