You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless your seek it in the
heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day
cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open
your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the
sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent
knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart
dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to
eternity.
Your fear of death is the trembling of the shepherd when
he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon
him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that
he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and
to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath
from it restless tides, that it may rise and expand and
seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you
indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you
shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall
you truly dance.
