Busy With Dying Poem by Eric Cockrell
Busy With Dying
we spend all of our lives,
busy with dying...
making final preperations,
for a trip across the room!
the prisoner makes preperations,
anxious for days...
anticipating his release.
almost afraid of freedom,
afraid of the unknown...
yet when the cell door opens,
the weight is lifted!
so busy with dying,
that we forget about living...
and so miss eternity,
in each moment!
the cell door is open!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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6/11/2026 2:34:49 AM # 1.0.0
A great poem and so true. We die soon enough, there's no point in thinking about it all the time, it's best to do something new instead. A great write.