Artes Moriendi
The art of dying well is lost to us
long gone with the old notion
that all God’s children
are saints
where no dread ledgers of tresspass are kept
to account the souls of the wicked from
the rolls of the pure
of heart
and promise is not forgiveness of sins
but for indulgence and absolution
of innocence borne
in sin.
Imagine these days to die unafraid
to face dread angels whose tears would lift us
up and carry us
to peace.
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A fine sentiment and one I was recently pondering as well! My Uncle is one of those who seems to be dying well, and I thought to myself, how lucky and rare he is to be almost happy in his departing. We must be listening at the same vibrating string. I really like your poems!