That day when I closed my eyes in death,
So lonesome a moment that was,
When I was wrapped with the chilling hands of death,
Like a loner I really was,
In that moment of eternal transfix-ion,
Forever cut off from terrestrial ties
Alone in the divide of time and eternity
With the lids closed and eyes yet opened.
Moving ever faster than I have ever been
Yet not fast enough to reach back in time.
With full awareness of the environment,
And still not able to register a presence.
The loved ones yelling and wailing,
For them I felt sorrowful adeep,
And yet with an understanding only I could smile,
Willing to pat and say ‘it is well’!
The dead aren’t really dead,
‘Cos we live on even while we sleep,
We are much here though we’re gone,
We were never gone because we never could!
Death is not an end, it is not the end,
Death is a means, just a mere conduit,
A transit point into a journey eternal
A vintage point wherefore to stand and peep,
In bird’s view manner, now and then,
What we’ve left and what we’d have;
Death is a point of clarity,
It is a state of acceptance.
To rue the past would be a waste,
And striving to better the future,
Is as lame as asking fish to dwell in sand;
We’re never going to change anything at death,
And never will we afterward!
All must be done before it is dawn.
What then should be the attitude?
Having a premonition of imminent demise,
A fervent prayer against the grim Reaper?
Or a corrective repose should be assumed?
If we must die, I think we should die,
‘Cos it is better to die when to die,
Than to daily die in the fear of death.
When you are making your story,
Ensure you stay in the center of history,
‘Cos in time that’s where we all are,
Betwixt those before and those behind,
It’ll one day be stretched out thin,
And you’ll be told in the extremes,
How much neutrality and decisiveness you’ve got
. . . If you must die
You should first learn to live!