I divested myself of despair
and fear when I came here.
Now there is no more catching
one's own eye in the mirror,
there are no bad books, no plastic,
no insurance premiums, and of course
no illness. Contrition
does not exist, nor gnashing
of teeth. No one howls as the first
clod of earth hits the casket.
The poor we no longer have with us.
Our calm hearts strike only the hour,
and God, as promised, proves
to be mercy clothed in light.
The grave, she lets us know, does not have the final word; darkness does not win, but is overcome by the light of Love, forever alive...
She does not ask for pity and is rather pitiless in her description of death here... death is as much a part of life as birth and she does not give it extra publicity here- she turns instead to God who has kept His promise and clothed her in mercy and light.
My friend, who passed this week Smiles between the lines Of death defined in Notes from the Other Side. Only Jane Kenyon could Capture these images Of life and death so fine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
And now she knows, beyond even these beautiful words...