Life holds our hands like a mother at dusk,
with palms still warm from the day’s quiet trust,
her breath is a song we have known since birth,
full of sunlit fields and the scent of earth.
She teaches us rhythm with trembling grace,
sways us in circles we ache to retrace—
each heartbeat a footfall, a whispered plea:
stay just a moment longer with me.
But Death waits quiet, just past the line,
not cruel, not kind, just steady with time.
A shadow in velvet, no need to speak,
offering rest for the bones that creak.
We dance that edge with unspoken dread,
our heels near the dark, our eyes ahead.
And still—before the final fall,
we turn once more to Life’s soft call.
A breath. A blink. The final sway.
The ghost of light at close of day.
And then, as dancers do in time,
we step across that thinning line—
not dragged, not torn, but led with grace,
into Death’s arms, a gentler place.
And Life, behind us, sheds her name,
but never once forgets our face.
The hardest part of living
When everyone loses the faith
You had always given
Now your world falls to grief,
the bridge between
what was and is—
a breath, unseen.
The space they filled still hums with light,
though they have vanished from your sight.
Grief is love in different skin—
a door left open, a voice within.
Life and Death juggle your world
Some days the world feels brighter
Some it feels it should be lighter
Say your prayers, your goodbyes, never lose their loving eyes
Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 12:12 AM UTC
Life holds our hands like a mother at dusk,
with palms still warm from the day’s quiet trust,
her breath is a song we have known since birth,
full of sunlit fields and the scent of earth.
She teaches us rhythm with trembling grace,
sways us in circles we ache to retrace—
each heartbeat a footfall, a whispered plea:
stay just a moment longer with me.
But Death waits quiet, just past the line,
not cruel, not kind, just steady with time.
A shadow in velvet, no need to speak,
offering rest for the bones that creak.
We dance that edge with unspoken dread,
our heels near the dark, our eyes ahead.
And still—before the final fall,
we turn once more to Life’s soft call.
A breath. A blink. The final sway.
The ghost of light at close of day.
And then, as dancers do in time,
we step across that thinning line—
not dragged, not torn, but led with grace,
into Death’s arms, a gentler place.
And Life, behind us, sheds her name,
but never once forgets our face.
The hardest part of living
When everyone loses the faith
You had always given
Now your world falls to grief,
the bridge between
what was and is—
a breath, unseen.
The space they filled still hums with light,
though they have vanished from your sight.
Grief is love in different skin—
a door left open, a voice within.
Life and Death juggle your world
Some days the world feels brighter
Some it feels it should be lighter
Say your prayers, your goodbyes, never lose their loving eyes