Death.
It comes to all.
We understand the fear
To think the end is near.

The images you hold
Are of one who grows old
Then takes his last breath.
To you, this is death.

Yes, it’s true.
It will happen to you.
But the finality you imagine
Is not reality.

You see with hooded eyes.
The truth they do disguise.
Your soul cannot be killed.
Its vibrant spirit never stilled.

You exist now as pure love.
Here below just as above.
This aspect of yourself can’t die.
Believing otherwise is just a lie.

How could you stop the greatest part?
That which arises in the heart …
The part of you that is aware …
That’s the part that’s always there.

And live on it always will.
Long after the body does lie still.
For to grow in loving is the role
Of your ever-lasting soul.