At times we dwell
Where darkness falls and lingers
Places into which our hearts tumble
Like a ball bouncing down the cellar steps
We go there more willingly
Than our self-pity allows us to admit
At times, as easily as our breath erases
All signs of yesterday
Death is one thing—moving on, making room
For new things to be born
It’s a mistake for any of us
To think we’re too good to die
And it’s a mistake to believe
We can escape the inevitable
Hiding in the cellar or attic
Or any dark place in our lives
We fill our lives with action, words, other things
Even the best can’t stop the gift inside us
From moving on, transcending us
Returning always to its giver
Poetic Alchemist 
Thanks Z. Your grandmother’s wisdom appeals to me as well. Best wishes to you and good hearing from you.
Beautiful and very timely. My grandmother believed in living each day as if It were the last. If you love someone, Tell them. Never let the sun go down on a quarrel. I have lived my life by her wisdom.
Thanks Borut: So true. Thanks for the wisdom bits.
Andrew: Thanks so much. I was in Sallisaw for a meeting with Memorial Hospital there — my client is the Cherokee Nation. Next time, maybe?
so well said! the title says it all.
(so you came to my neck of the woods. If I had known, I would have loved to come over and see you – Sallisaw isn’t far from me. What brought you there?)
A lot to think about, Don! … Yes, the bests parts of ourselves go on, transcending, I suppose, like the man walking towards the sun, whether we know it or not… The less fortunate ones fall behind, like shadows that they are… A piece of Eastern wisdom says: ‘Die before your death’ – to the world of shadows, that is…!?:)
Thank you, Dan. Hope you are well.
A really fine one, Master Don. Thanks!