There is no death. We just go on
and the world just stays the same.
After an intermittent time away
we return with another name.
And what name will you have?
Will you have a choice?
I think it will be decided
by the ones whose voice
will welcome you as a babe again
and nourish you with love.
And if perchance that is missing
like the feathers of a wingless dove
you will find love somewhere else
by searching until you do.
For living again is a gift from Creation
and you will always be you.
There is no death. We just go on.
So there is not a thing to fear.
The world itself might not look the same,
nor you in how you appear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem