Death Is A Hunter

  - for Kyra

Death is a hunter
who never misses.
He stalks us all,
patiently awaiting
the proper moment,
takes perfect aim, fires,
and thinks we are gone.
Death is a gatherer
ceaselessly collecting,
eternally foraging,
and when he finds us
he slips us into his bag
and thinks we are gone.
Death is a messenger
delivering the telegram
that says our time is up.
He reads it to us
and thinks we are gone.
But death is mistaken.
Death is certain,
but it is not final.
The world we touched
is changed forever
by our journey in it,
however brief or long.
Something of us remains
in a child, a garden,
a painting, a poem,
a kiss or a caress.
Our hearts stop beating,
but breath does not depart.
Those we leave behind
have only to inhale
and once again
we are with them,
and within them.
Bodies die; love never does.
Each life, sacred and eternal,
inspires Creation.
We are never truly gone.
  - mce