Death is Like This

Death is like….

A heavy blanket draped over the ones you leave behind,

Trapping all the tears and sadness underneath it.

Death is like black rose petal memories falling silently to the ground

Where we gather them up and hold them tightly in our hands.

Death is a whispered sigh

Through the weeping willows branches,

A murmur of apology for the grief and the broken hearts.

When you were born, the cord was joyfully severed.

Why should there be any less joy now

When the thread that ties you to this earth is finally broken?

No matter how hard we try to reinforce it to keep you here,

The fragile chain is yours to break.

If this is the time you’ve chosen,

Then all that’s left for us to do

Is let you go.

Death is like taking a trip to an unknown destination.

It’s a little terrifying to leave behind

The only life you’ll remember

Until you get there.

Then it will all be crystal clear –

Your plan, the master plan, the workings of the universe –

Everything at last making perfect sense.

If we listen hard we’ll hear your wings softly stirring

Before your body’s breathing slows and stills.

That’s when we’ll know you’re off and flying,

That you’ve taken all the love you can carry with you

Into another dimension

Where your next adventure waits.

This is not the end of your story.

Death is like a brand new chapter

In the book of a beautiful soul.

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4 thoughts on “Death is Like This

  1. Not that I want to depart this world this very minute or even this very day…but when The Good Lord calls my name I shall go willingly….Death is not really dead..it is transition to another better life. It is leaving behind the body that has house my soul and personality for many years. When I go to The Lord I will not need this body, my Spirit will fly and I shall be free.

    i loved that poem it was very thought provoking and powerful

    Like

  2. To paraphrase you and Joan Baez life might be squishy and messy, but I revel in it and never want to leave. To quote Dylan Thomas, I will ‘not go gently into that good night’ But I suspect you were not writing about you or about me. It’s a lovely poem, Gran, it made me shed a tear as I thought about my dad who left for the undiscovered country almost three years ago.

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