Sunday, November 15, 2009

'Death': For Pearl van Wyk

TEXT WRITTEN BY A PRIEST IN 1918:
'Death means nothing at all…I have only slipped away into the next room, I am I, and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, we are still.
Call me by my old familiar name; speak to me in the easy way we always used; put no difference in your tone; wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh, as always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile; think of me. Pray for me. Let my name be the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without effort, without trace of shadow in it.
Life means all that it was ever meant; it is the same as it ever was…there is absolutely unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you, for an interval somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well. Nothing is past, nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before.'

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

1 comment:

123 123 said...

Great article you got here. I'd like to read more concerning that theme.
BTW look at the design I've made myself Overnight escort