On Death

What is it that happens
when the lungs cease to draw breath
and the heart ceases pumping blood
and the body rests?

How does one go from breath and animation
-to waxy stillness-
in less than a blink?

I’ve seen it again and again,
life –
then death(.)

Is it a single moment missed?
Or a collection of moments

I search my soul for sight
wanting to capture the holiness
of the end of life as we know it and
the beginning of life
as we have only been promised yet do not
(perhaps cannot)

Within the goodbye, I hear a soft hello,
a vague, somewhat distant, incomprehensible
Are we welcoming our future?
Do we see the holy?

Or do we say hello to the nothingness,
to being without form or consciousness?
Energy dies not with the body,
but instead is merely transferred.

Love after love.
Life after life.
But on a closed loop, perhaps.

We may have no beginning
and no end but –
we have our very being within the beginning
and end of all things.

Alpha and Omega.
Creator of all things seen and unseen.
Spirit of life. Witness to death.
Voice of Resurrection.

In the stillness of the hospital room,
where the waxy body lays,
the voice calls forth newness
out of the despair.
It vibrates and echos in my core.

Be still and know that I am God.

-Shelby Lucas

PoetryJulia NusbaumComment