Death Comes In

SometimesDeath barges in
Like a flash flood, breaking down the door
And smashing windows. I know the image,
The savage, silent, implacable figure,
The black hood and scythe. But I don’t believe it.

Usually Death walks through the door
Quietly, like a shy two-year old, slips in
Slowly, a little at a time, drop by drop,
Until the floor is wet and slippery
And you fall on your face. And there it is.

Death gathers us up in its arms
As gently as a mother lion lifting her cup
And licking it to sleep. Death settles
Us into eternity with a kiss and a blessing.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s