Poetry: The meeting of life with death
By emptychair
@innertalks (23746)
Australia
June 17, 2019 5:25pm CST
Life and death met in a park.
Life sat down, and death wept.
Death moved closer, and sat down too.
Life then knew, it was in strife, in life.
Life died. It then knew, love had not lied.
Life was still alive. Life knew this was true.
For life to exist, it must always have existed.
Death is the guest of life, not the reverse.
God lives outside of death, but allows it in.
Death is just the changing of the guards within.
Love whispers a sweet nothing into life's ears.
Life lives out death despite its knowing only life.
Death weeps tears of new life into each death.
Life lives again in itself, renewed into itself.
God never dies, but uses death as his tool.
When we see this, we weep with joy, not pain.
Photo Credit:
The photo used here belongs to me, the author, of this piece
Who really sits on your bench in your life? Life or death?
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