When Death Comes
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps his purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
~ Mary Oliver ~
Oh, how I love Mary Oliver. She speaks of death, and yet, in the same instant, she is affirming life. She encourages me not be a mere visitor on this earth, but to live abundantly, to love freely, courageously, to affirm each individual's own uniqueness as a precious gift to be appreciated. I wish to be like a child, eyes and mind wide open and full of amazement. Abraham Lincoln says, "It's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years." How true. Death is always a difficult subject, but if destiny's time line for me is cruel, I want to be able to look back and say, yes, Kelly, you lived courageously, you lived well.
Each day is a gift not to be wasted.
Carpe Diem, My Friends~ Happy Sunday!
.jpg)
