Death Is Easy, But Living Is Hard

by J. Allen Wilson

Shadows dance; eyes fall silent into the peace of eternal sleep.
Vague figures quiver around the lifeless shell of one unable to speak.
I see this transpire before my very eyes.
I feel the warmth of glory with the coming of my demise.

Relentless are those disembodied that I somehow leave hovering below.
Panic quickens, doctors race, machines beep and the Doctor says,
‘It is just his time to go’.

I see, I feel the hot salty tears of those who have now just been left behind.
Yes, dying was easy, however I weep for those standing there in the secret place of my absent mind.

A kaleidoscope of colors dance before a new spirit thus now risen.
I see mountains, fields with golden grain and streams that run with healing waters absent of clouds and rain.

Caught in a whirlwind, I am pulled further and further away.
Upward; flying past the trees, past the soaring eagle into the light of a new domain.

Brief now are the glimpses of the shell and the people left behind.
Never now doth this soul worry, for living was hard, but dying was easy…I feel empathy for those who weep but I shall soon see them in another greater day all in due time.

J. Allen Wilson © 1/18/2014