grrlTravels

Tis poetry for thee

Here is a poem sent to me by an alert reader (that's my imitation of Dave Barry) which makes me cry every time I read it. It is really comforting, too comforting not to be shared.

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I, and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone,
wear no forced solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Pray, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was;
there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval,
somewhere very near, just around the corner.

All is well.

Henry Scott Holland 1847-1918
Canon of St. Paul’s Cathedral