It was death himself <br />at my swords tip <br />shocked at his predicament <br />unaccustomed as he was <br />to insouciance <br />and unfamiliar he was <br />with his own impending ending. <br /> <br />How do you tell Death that <br />his own death comes? <br /> <br />He said. <br />'How am I to meet <br />alls end this way <br />when I am the very symbol <br />of the terminus; <br />the end for all and the other many? ' <br /> <br />'Tell me how I am come to this end; <br />the irony of my own dead death <br />now near? ' <br /> <br />'Death must die' I said <br />as life itself begins' <br /> <br />'Its not so mysterious Death <br />to understand. <br />You are not the end but <br />my own beginning <br />and I am life's insistence at the beginning; <br />that coming to the fore <br />youth moving to sure <br />and steady borning. <br /> <br />'That is the cycle of all things, ' <br />I said. <br />'You die death; <br />not a sad departing <br />but my own new beginning. <br /> <br />'How sad' Death said <br />'I understand your glib reckoning <br />but my death to me is personal <br />and while the Great Cycle <br />to you is mesmerizing <br />for me it is my fully sensed ending. <br /> <br />Endings are personal and while <br />loves I've known <br />have found new loves <br />it has not <br />and did not <br />obliterate <br />old love's ending. <br />And that is I. <br /> <br />Old loves die <br />and their death <br />is not erased <br />by new love's <br />beginning; <br />they fade <br />away amid the sad <br />sighings <br />we hear at night <br />when alone <br />in our beds <br /> <br />in the dark <br />crying.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-dies-again/
