Always at sea I think about the dead. <br />On barques invisible they seem to sail <br />The self-same course; and from the decks cry 'Hail'! <br />Then I recall old words that they have said, <br />And see their faces etched upon the mist- <br />Dear faces I have kissed. <br /> <br /> <br />Always the dead seem very close at sea. <br />The coarse vibrations of the earth debar <br />Our spirit friends from coming where we are. <br />But through God's ether, unimpeded, free, <br />They wing their way, the ocean deeps above- <br />And find the hearts that love. <br /> <br /> <br />Always at sea my dead come very near. <br />A growing host; some old in spirit lore, <br />And some who crossed to find the other shore <br />But yesterday. All, all, I see and hear <br />With inner senses, while the voice of faith <br />Proclaims-there is no death.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/always-at-sea/
