Brian’sPoems

Death

I know you miss him,
sometimes so much so it shows
in your empty stare,
but also where no one can see it,
like in the pit of your throat
when you can’t swallow,
or in a hollow breath and skipped heartbeat.

Old Hem would tell you there are two kinds of death:
the good and the bad.
He’d call yours the bad
because it came unexpected,
seemingly without any meaning.

But then I’d have to disagree with Hem.
Death is neither good nor bad.
It is an opening,
an awakening into a deeper reality.
We may all die a thousand deaths
before being born again.

So go ahead cry
until you have no more tears.
Then cry silently
until the pain is transformed.
Soon you will awaken more fully rooted
in your own life.
This is the gift given by death.