When Death Comes

This Sunday night I wanted to share one of my all-time favorite poems with you. I hope you’ve had a wonderful weekend.

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it’s over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.

I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

- Mary Oliver

What is your favorite poem?

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4 thoughts on “When Death Comes

  1. I have to confess that I don’t have a favorite poem. Maybe that’s why I ditched the literature part of my English degree for linguistics? If I did have to pick, it would probably be something that rhymed. You’re so much deeper than I :)

  2. This is beautiful! I used to love poetry when I was a little kid, but a lit teacher in high school turned me off from it. Maybe you’ve inspired me to take another look at poetry!

  3. Beautiful.

    My favorite poem recently has been Robert Frost’s Two Roads Diverged in a Wood (is that even the title). I know it’s not exactly unique, but it’s meaning has really resonated in my life lately.

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