Season Of Death

Death is deemed life’s mortal enemy;
many believe they’ll no more exist;
but death, is another form of energy;
not one we should fear, or resist.

Death is merely one of life’s seasons;
like spring, summer, or fall;
none of us knows all the reasons;
but, it seems, the cruelest of all.

But death is, perhaps, the greatest illusion;
where a curtain comes down on the stage;
most drawn to an inappropriate conclusion;
that the dead can no longer engage.

But consciousness can never expire;
for, where would it have, to go;
thoughts are simply unable to retire;
they return above, from below.

Just as the Autumn leaves must fall;
in death’s season, so must we.
The Master remains, in charge of all;
including who we’re to be.

As life’s wildflowers, we’ll return in Spring;
fully alive in the Master’s garden;
filled with the beauty and love we bring;
for, love is better than a pardon.

Death is the final act of life’s play;
it’s final curtain is set to come down;
the body succumbs to death’s decay;
the soul takes wing, wearing a crown.