When Death Comes

When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn— you know it is close: lurking, like the shadows that breathe under the tree. Remember to listen to its quiet song, as yesterday birds bring tales of sorrow; your heart still thrums within, a wild and beautiful pulse. You will face the darkness unafraid,
searching through branches for bright colors,
glimmers of life and sounds that gather. Let’s go lightly, each moment held,
like petals throughout wilderness, acknowledged—blossoms without haste.

And in a time when colors gleam—
this is not an ending, as shadows bend; you’ll find moments bright in every stride. The dance ignites deep in the soul,
mystical threads hollow the wings; you’ll become what you love,—always,
not separate from the world,
nestled within the roots; or took flight like last summer’s honey. I will be gone, absorbed in sweetness,
when death comes—embolden me against awareness of fleeting beauty— I choose life and wonder,
like fireflies in the singed night.

• Mary Oliver