When death comes <br />like the hungry bear in autumn; <br />when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse <br /> <br />to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; <br />when death comes <br />like the measle-pox <br /> <br />when death comes <br />like an iceberg between the shoulder blades, <br /> <br />I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering: <br />what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness? <br /> <br />And therefore I look upon everything <br />as a brotherhood and a sisterhood, <br />and I look upon time as no more than an idea, <br />and I consider eternity as another possibility, <br /> <br />and I think of each life as a flower, as common <br />as a field daisy, and as singular, <br /> <br />and each name a comfortable music in the mouth, <br />tending, as all music does, toward silence, <br /> <br />and each body a lion of courage, and something <br />precious to the earth. <br /> <br />When it's over, I want to say all my life <br />I was a bride married to amazement. <br />I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. <br /> <br />When it's over, I don't want to wonder <br />if I have made of my life something particular, and real. <br /> <br />I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened, <br />or full of argument. <br /> <br />I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.<br /><br />Mary Oliver<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-death-comes/
