My dear friend, Death

My dear friend, Death, comes strolling through. Some turn away. Some run. They attempt to distance themselves from her like a bullet from a gun. As if their effort might change the rules, as if this were some game; as if the truth about her quest were avoidable, all the same. She watches, still, her welcome, ready, if only we submit to her holy, loving arms:

our fleshy, meaty bits. She cares little for the sentiments of mortality. For her, the focus is the soul; like a river flowing to the sea. She whispers of love, to those who can hear her welcoming plans. She brings relief to those in distress. She cradles their being in her hands. Death, she arrives, so specific, to gather her charge. People's expectations may show in the state of her regard. But even for those who harbor no faith she holds out, still, her hand, to let them know they are welcomed home; to escort them beyond Earth's demands. In a moment she sweeps the dust from our soul, welcoming us more fully. If only the living could comprehend darling Death; she is no bully. For energy pulses, with or without this meatsuit we call our lives. It vibrates, as always, it continues, it grows, beyond concepts of demise. Yes, Death is my darling, my companion, my friend. She is steadfast; she facilitates change. She helps us, each soul, like new butterflies unfold; she helps energy to rearrange. ~Spellbinding Sherry *** Please click on the DONATE button , found at the top right of the screen, to help support Soul Convergence's spiritually focused death doula services. *** Thank you