They say that Much ado is said about No-Thing
And the Reaper, too much is said about Him, about Her
You see, the funny thing about Death, in order to live
We must feel his embrace, taste her kisses
For it is Death that guards the entrance of the Path
To the Stairway of Heaven that takes One up the Mountain of the Lord
Fear not, Archangel Michael, awaits, arms awide
And amidst it All truly, madly, deeply…
You will find, Life amongst Death for to Die is to be Reborn
And Arise from the ashes they say of the Phoenix
And to walk with Death, not as enemy, but as Friend, as Lover
For it is Death, in every moment, in every experience, in every body,
That shall truly set One free…
The Buddha came first and off he went to kill suffering.
Jesus was second, in recorded fashion, and his Death opened the connection.
The Prophet of Islam came along and it was he who saw the value in submitting to the Path.
And many others, countless others have walked the Path, up the Mountain of the Lord
In their fields, in their traditions.
And they all died, many deaths…
We are not afraid of Death.
We are afraid to truly Live.
In order to be alive.