At the raw wound in the ground you stand,
with mournful faces and a heart which mirrors the torn up dirt before you.
From my safe, bright, warm place I see you and feel your sorrow.
And for a moment, I feel a stab of regret at leaving you behind.
I wonder, how I can find a way to let you know death is a time for celebration.
Not a time for sorrow or mourning. Death is not an ending but a beginning.
I wonder, how to find a way to let you know dying is nothing to fear.
Instead, it is to fear you didn't live your life well when you had the chance.
When the moment comes to take that final breath,
you embrace death with open arms.
As you leave behind like a candy wrapper the body;
wracked with pain and sometimes...
decades of stored sorrows.
Fears, regrets, guilt, and shame
fall away like rain.
Still clinging to you like sweet perfume...
The essence of everything you have become;
love you have known,and sweet memories.
Metamorphosed like a butterfly;death the process
by which this wonderful new birth has occurred.
Capable of doing things which have only been dreamed about before.
Now you can transcend time and space;while exploring the multiple planes
invisible to human eyes. Filled with incredible wonder and joy.So dry your tears
and rejoice; I am not there under the raw ground at your feet. I am ALIVE!
Only the shell I was encased in is deceased. I am alive...watching over you...by your side.

Copyright © 200l

Please email me for permission to use this poem: Myoriah

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