(by John O'Dohohue)
From the moment you were born,
Your death has walked beside you.
Though it seldom shows its face,
You still feel its empty touch
When fear invades your life,
Or what you love is lost
Or inner damage is incurred...
That the silent presence of your death
Would call your life to attention,
Wake you up to how scarce your time is
And to the urgency to become free
And equal to the call of your destiny.
That you would gather yourself
And decide carefully
How you now can live
The life you would love
To look back on
From your deathbed.
Lila kindly sent me a link to where I could find that poem, among the comments on his book - "To Bless the Space Between Us - a Book of Blessings" on Amazon.com.
The commenter left quite a long essay about O'Donohue, who died in January of this year, concluding with a quote about what O'Donohue said happens on the other side: "I believe that our friends among the dead really mind us and look out for us," he wrote. "Often there might be a big boulder of misery over your path about to fall on you, but your friends among the dead hold it back until you have passed by."
I now have someone very special watching over me. Since my mother has moved into the spiritual realm, she is more aware of me now probably than she had been during the past few years. In this I am blessed.