Death Is Nothing At All

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?

I am but 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 only better, infinitely happier and forever we will all be one together with Christ.

by Henry Scott Holland

Comments (16)

Lovely splendid and beautiful
There should be one more stanza here that states how the incredible number of commercials constantly running on this site must provide poemhunter with quite a bit of money also. Poems keep the soul flowing, and cash keeps the world going.
A thoughtfully conceived meaningful poem unfolding the various traits of the money power.
Money makes the world go round what would we do without it? Good poem..thank you..
An insightful portrayal of the power and essence of money, well articulated and nicely brought forth with conviction. Thanks for sharing Dana.
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