Death On My Journey

I speak of Death as if talking about a friend, yes, a devoted friend who walks beside me, sometimes behind me or up ahead, leading the way... Yeah, you think I am weird, ok, I spend a lot of time alone, yet I am not lonely because Death keeps me company.

Don’t take me wrong if I address Death as She. Sometimes she’s female, sometimes he’s male, and often has no gender at all. Death is whole soul. Methinks I’ll speak to it. To enquire if it’s true he only exists as light divine…

I will ask him for a dance: “Come Death, come dance with me. Right here, right now, let’s glide on these white-tiled floors surrounded by white painted walls… Lie beside me at nightfall in my bed of black satin sheets, my nightly coffin… In my dreams you are a soaring eagle, you teach my spirit to ride rainbow zephyrs over lakes, rivers, and verdant valleys, over mountains covered by eternal snow fields … into the sunlight and beyond... among the stars... ”