love truly never die
year by year the sad memorial wreath--
and flowers, types of life and death--
upon their graves.
is she who has a dear one dead
she has whose face will never change,
communion that will not grow strange.
of a life is death.
no death, nor change, nor any ending.
journey, and so many go
who stay at length discern the blending
two roads, two breaths, two lives, and so
the high and quiet knowledge that the dead
ourselves, made beautiful instead.
"Readings on the Philosophy of Death"
Unknown, from "Poetry For Verse Speaking Choir"
by, Helen D. Williams
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