No words cover the experience.
No time undoes the feeling.
In love having fullness.
Only to be left releasing:
A shovel, a handful of dirt and the hole left behind.
In love, in sharing: becoming angels.
Living itself: is the wing beat of being an angel.
Even when forced to face death
Coming down to find the ground.
No words fulfill this hole.
Not enough dirt hide the remains,
Within the mind, memory and visions
Which as if alive
Continue to play out.
In peace
I wish you peace
To say in oneness
Death is a reflection
Looking back from the depths
Towards the light
Where we all are one.
This is truth
The reason no words work
In that Death is the merging,
Becoming alight
With the Tao.
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