What is Dying?
ships sails and I stand
Watching till she fades on
The horizon and someone at my
Side says, she is gone. Gone where?
Gone from my sight, that is all;
She is just as large as when I
Saw her. The diminished size,
And the total loss of sight is in me,
Not in her, and just at the moment
When someone at my side says,
She is gone, There are others who
are watching her coming, and
other voices take up a glad shout,
There she comes! and that is dying.
(poem courtesy of Nadine Sarreal)
Those Who Plant Kindness
Do not stand at my grave and
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
(poem courtesy of Rachelle