The Fear of Death
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Death wanders through our lives at will, sweet Death Is busy with each intake of our breath. Why do you fear her? Lo, her laughing face All rosy with the light of jocund grace! A kind and lovely maiden culling flowers In a sweet garden fresh with vernal showers, This is the thing you fear, young portress bright, Who opens to our souls the worlds of light. Is it because the twisted stem must feel Pain when the tenderest hands its glory steal? Is it because the flowerless stalk droops dull And ghastly now that was so beautiful? Or is it the opening portal’s horrid jar That shakes you, feeble souls of courage bare? Death is but changing of our robes to wait In wedding garments at the Eternal’s gate.
Life, death, – death, life; the words have led for ages Our thought and consciousness and firmly seemed Two opposites; but now long-hidden pages Are opened, liberating truths undreamed. Life only is, or death is life disguised, – Life a short death until by life we are surprised. Page-54 |