.
.
At the end of my suffering
there was a door.
.
Hear me out: that which you call death
I remember.
.
Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.
Then nothing. The weak sun
flickered over the dry surface.
.
It is terrible to survive
as consciousness
buried in the dark earth.
.
Then it was over: that which you fear, being
a soul and unable
to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth
bending a little. And what I took to be
birds darting in low shrubs.
.
You who do not remember
passage from the other world
I tell you I could speak again: whatever
returns
from oblivion returns to find a voice:
.
from the center of my life came
a great fountain, deep blue
shadows on azure sea water.
.
~ Louise Glück
.
reblogged from: http://deathdeconstructed.blogspot.com/
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