A poem that transforms the terrifying finality of death into a gentle, serene sanctuary of well-earned rest. For my best friend, Charles.
When shadows lengthen and the day grows still, I lean into the quiet, soft and deep, Just pulling up the blankets for a sleep. It feels like resting after years of work, Like sitting down when all the chores are done, No heavy doubts or fears that try to lurk, Just watching out the window, the fading sun. My breathing slows, a simple, steady rhythm, And all the noise inside begins to clear, I leave the weight of everyday right with them, And find a strange, gentle stillness here. No dramatic exit, no pain to fight or mend, Just letting go, and letting darkness blend.
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.