A prespective on death
No shadow paused to rest beside my lonely frame,
Yet now a circle forms around—silent, yet aflame.
Gifts I knew not—my days passed like muted sighs,
But now a cascade of petals crowns my skies.
I thirsted once for just one caring hand to hold—
Yet now, shoulders lean like silent oaks enfold.
None walked but footsteps few along life’s fickle trail,
But now a caravan blooms—grief’s survivors sail.
Only today did death unveil her tragic grace:
All my life I merely drifted—missing heaven’s face.
Copyright © Jay Narain | Year Posted 2025
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