It’s our final sacrifice,
Dying, lying in our linen shrouds,
No embalming, no device
Of preservation, no dead crowds
...
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Linda - a beautiful description and poem. Definitely sounds like the way to go, uhm, after you've already went. And a good place to plant a tree. -chuck
Soulful and sombre with a solid sense of dignified acceptance of death as well as confidence in the teachings of your religion concerning what follows (I don't share these beliefs, Lind, but in my view that is wholly irrelevant) . And Lind, visit your private e-mail. Warmest regards, Gina.
I love poems about dying. These are beautiful words. And yes, death should have it's own dignity, as it does here.