when death comes
we lost our friend Robert last night. it was a bicycle accident in SF, a few days ago. we gathered and sat for hours, praying and waiting to embrace those who were at the hospital when they came home. when she arrived, late in the evening, it was to a room full of warmth and love. we could offer nothing more or less.
this was the poem that was shared and read for him.
.::.
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 ~
.::.
for me, despite the intense sadness, experiencing the space that was held for Robert and Mary last night made me feel so safe – to know that if i were ever in that situation – having suddenly and without warning lost my love, my best friend, my light – so many people would be there to catch me. it means a lot to know that.
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