When those who have gone before,
Knock softly on our dream-thought door,
With wisdom, love, and kindness fair,
Demonstrating their constant care.
Do we their soft words heed?
Gathering each image as a seed,
Planting each one in our hearts deep,
Waiting for Life to re-awaken from sleep.
Or do we get lost in grief?
And see Death only as a thief,
Who steals away those we love,
Who has conquered Life, and stilled their blood.
Life and Death together walk
Hand in hand, they play, they talk.
For like a baby in the womb
Life sleepily grows inside Death’s tomb.
Then comes re-awakening! Life’s new birth!
The promise of joy, hope, love, and mirth!
Death watches, and awaits another day
The game will change, soon Death’s turn to play.
The cycle continues as together they walk,
Life and Death, they play, they talk.
Death’s harsh hand is not the end
Death prepares the way, Life begins again.
So, when those who have gone before
Knock gently on your dream-thought door,
Listen as with love they softly say,
“We still live…in a different way.”
“When we departed our Life with you,
Death held the door and we walked through.”
For Life and Death, together walk,
Hand in hand, they play, they talk.
Death and Life in Love’s Hands stay,
Love makes the rules they must obey.
Love conquers fear, Love creates gain.
Whether Life, whether Death, Love still remains.
Copyright ©2004 by Vicky Lynn Macchione