Thursday, May 08, 2014

When Death Comes




When Death Comes
by Mary Oliver

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 the 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 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 the 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. 

3 comments:

Karen Gerstenberger said...

Mary Oliver is so wise, and she expresses herself beautifully. Let be as alive as possible, each day. I have a feeling that your Joey did just that, with his many talents - lived every day to the fullest.

Anonymous said...

Thinking of you and praying daily. So sorry for your
sadness. Love Sharon

Sherri Newman said...

This is beautiful. The words describe exactly why I keep putting one foot in front of each other everyday and try to make a difference. Thank you for sharing!