Why I Still Text Dead People

                                        

Morn after morn dispels the dark,

Bearing our lives away;

Absorbed in cares we fail to mark

How swift our years decay;

Some maddening draught hath drugged our souls,

In love with vital breath,

Which still the same sad chart unrolls,

Birth, eld, disease, and death.

                                                                                                             BHARTRHARI


And if we remember this with each breath and blink then death wouldn't be such a cruel mistress. It would beckon and we with a smile and relief would fold gladly in it's embrace. And we would remember as time echoes in our wake that as soon  as one is born, one begins the process of dying (sic), and then the tears on our cheeks would fade away, with a smile an embrace and a not so sad farewell.


We would look at death and whisper,

  "Come, for I have long waited, 

    I have toiled and I have suffered. 

   And now that my curtain falls,

    And the slivers of life grow thinner.

    I am comforted by your siren song."

This is to my darling Dudley, from whose loss I will never recover.