When I Die Poem by Dr. Bishnupada Sethi

When I die,
when my body
is carried to the pyre,
do not think
I am still within it,
watching the flames.

What once looked through those eyes
has already departed
into a silence
no one can follow.

Do not drown
your eyes in sorrow.
Do not cling
to ashes and smoke.

When you see
the fire rise around me,
do not weep for my departure.
My leaving happened earlier,
in the quiet moment
when breath loosened its hold
on the body.

This flesh
was only a temporary garment,
a clay lamp
meant to hold light
for a little while
Now needs disposal
To prevent further decay.

Soon,
the embers will fade,
the smoke will dissolve into the sky,
and even memory
will begin to thin
like mist before morning.

And when my lips fall silent,
when my song has ended,
let no false comfort
cover the mystery.

What I have loved,
what I have given,
what I have become
may endure somewhere
beyond name and form,
or perhaps only
within the fading echoes
of those who remember me.

No one truly knows
what waits beyond the pyre.
Silence keeps its secret.
And perhaps
that mystery itself
is part of being human.