Immortality 

Clare Harner, American poet and journalist, 1909-1977. For alternative and plagiarized versions see here.

“Do not stand
By my grave, and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep—
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle, autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift, up-flinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the day transcending night.
Do not stand
By my grave, and cry—
I am not there,
I did not die.”

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♦  Neither life nor death 

Philip Kapleau, American-born, Japanese-trained Zen master, 1912-2004. In: Kapleau, P. (1972). Wheel of life and death, p. 45. ISBN 0-04-294074-5

“Bravely let go your hold, / On the edge of the precipice / And die to the small self. / Then that which is naturally revealed / Is the True-nature in which / there is neither life nor death.”

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♦  Surrender

Ikkyu Sojun, eccentric Zen Buddhist monk, Japan, 1394-1481). More poems and haiku.

“Born like a dream / In this dreamlike world / How easy in mind I am, / I who will fade away / Like the morning dew.”

♦ Farewell my friends

by Rabindranath Tagore, Bengali poet, playwright, and social reformer, 1861-1941. In: Gitanjali. (1982/88). Poems of Gitanjali. ISBN 1852300396

“It was beautiful as long as it lasted / The journey of my life. / I have no regrets whatsoever / Save the pain I’ll leave behind. / Those dear hearts who love and care. / And the strings pulling at the heart and soul. / The strong arms that held me up / When my own strength let me down. / At every turning of my life / I came across good friends, / Friends who stood by me, / Even when the time raced me by. / Farewell, farewell, my friends / I smile and bid you goodbye. / No, shed no tears for I need them not / All I need is your smile. / If you feel sad do think of me / For that’s what I’ll like when you live in the hearts / Of those you love, remember then / You never die.”

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♦ On dying

Rainer Maria Rilke, Bohemian-Austrian poet and novelist, 1875-1926. Translated by Albert Ernest Flemming. This was the last entry in Rilke’s notebook before his death at age 51. List of Rilke’s works.

“Come thou, thou last one, whom I recognize,
unbearable pain throughout this body’s fabric:
as I in my spirit burned, see, I now burn in thee:
the wood that long resisted the advancing flames
which thou kept flaring, I now am nourishing
and burn in thee.

My gentle and mild being through thy ruthless fury
has turned into a raging hell that is not from here.
Quite pure, quite free of future planning, I mounted
the tangled funeral pyre built for my suffering,
so sure of nothing more to buy for future needs,
while in my heart the stored reserves kept silent.

Is it still I, who there past all recognition burn?
Memories I do not seize and bring inside.
O life! O living! O to be outside!
And I in flames. And no one here who knows me.”

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♦ On the day I die

Rumi [Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī], Sufi mystic and poet, 1207-1273. In: Barks, C. (trans.). (2001/2). The Soul of Rumi: A  new collection of ecstatic poems. ISBN 9780060604523

“On the day I die, when I’m being carried
toward the grave, don’t weep. Don’t say,

He’s gone! He’s gone. Death has nothing to do with going away. The sun sets and

the moon sets, but they’re not gone.
Death is a coming together. The tomb

looks like a prison, but it’s really
release into union. The human seed goes

down in the ground like a bucket into
the well where Joseph is. It grows and

comes up full of some unimagined beauty.
Your mouth closes here, and immediately

opens with a shout of joy there.”

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♦ Lightly, my darling

by Aldous Huxley, English philosopher and writer, 1894-1953. In: Ram Dass. (1977/2010). Be here now, p. 166.

“Lightly, my darling, lightly, even when it comes to dying. / Nothing ponderous or portentous or emphatic. / No rhetoric, no tremolos, no self-conscious persona putting on its celebrated imitation of Christ, Buddha, or Rumi. / And of course, no theology, no metaphysics. / Just the simple fact of dying and the fact of the clear light.”

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♦ If it be your will

Leonard Cohen, Canadian poet and chanteur, 1934-2016. Lyrics with minor edits; YouTube concert recording.

“If it be your will that I speak no more
And my voice be still as it was before
I will speak no more, I shall abide until
I am spoken for, if it be your will

If it be your will that a voice be true
From this broken hill, all your praises they shall ring
If it be your will to let me sing

If it be your will, if there is a choice
Let the rivers fill, let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill on all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will to make us well

And draw us near, and bind us tight
All your children here in their rags of light
In our rags of light, all dressed to kill
And end this night, if it be your will”

♦ Alive

Winifred M. Letts, English Irish poet and playwright, 1882-1971. In the public domain.

“Because you live, though out of sight and reach, / I will, so help me God, live bravely too, / Taking the road with laughter and gay speech, / Alert, intent to give life all its due. / I will delight my soul with many things, / The humours of the street and books and plays, / Great rocks and waves winnowed by seagulls’ wings, / Star-jewelled Winter nights, gold harvest days. / I will for your sake praise what I have missed, / The sweet content of long-united lives, / The sunrise joy of lovers who have kissed, / Children with flower-faces, happy wives [partners/friends]. / And last I will praise Death who gives anew. / Brave life adventurous and love—and you.”

♦ Are you looking for me?

Kabir, 1440-1518, Indian poet-saint revered by Hindus, Muslims, and Sikhs. In: Bly, R. (1977). The Kabir Book. ISBN 9780807063781

“Are you looking for me? I am in the next seat / my shoulder is against yours. / You will not find me in stupas, not in Indian shrine rooms, / nor in synagogues, nor in cathedrals: / Not in masses, nor kirtans, not in legs winding / around your own neck, / nor in eating just vegetables / When you really look for me, you will see me instantly: / you will find me in the tiniest house of time. / Kabir says: Student, tell me what is God? / It is the breath inside the breath.”

♦ Beannacht / Blessing

John O’Donohue, Irish poet and philosopher, 1956-2008. In: O’Donohue, J. (2011). Echoes of memory. ISBN 97803077175802011.

“For Josie, my mother”

“On the day when / the weight deadens / on your shoulders / and you stumble, / may the clay dance / to balance you. / And when your eyes / freeze behind the grey window / and the ghost of loss / gets into you, / may a flock of colours, / indigo, red, green / and azure blue, / come to awaken in you / a meadow of delight. / When the canvas frays / in the currach* of thought / and a stain of ocean / blackens beneath you, / may there come across the waters / a path of yellow moonlight / to bring you safely home. / May the nourishment of the earth be yours, / may the clarity of light be yours, / may the fluency of the ocean be yours, / may the protection of the ancestors be yours. / And so may a slow / wind work these words / of love around you, / an invisible cloak / to mind your life.” [*currach: in Ireland, a small skiff of wickerwork covered with hides or canvas]

♦ Blessing for the dying

In: Davis, Mary. (2017). Every day spirit: A daybook of wisdom, joy and peace. ISBN 0999504606. NB: This may not be the right source. Kindly send a correction. Thank you.)

“Bless you on your way / Bless the life you have lived – each day, each hour, each minute. / Bless all of the people you have ever loved. / Bless all of the people who have ever loved you. / Bless the work you did here — what you made with your hands, your heart, and your love. / Bless the joy you felt – the moments of laughter and celebration. / Bless the moments of regret for things said and unsaid, done and undone. / Bless the forgiveness that releases those regrets and replaces them with love. / Bless the peace that surrounds you as you fly free. / Bless the curtain that rises to let you in. / Bless the love that welcomes your soul. / Bless the moment when you become that love. / Bless you on your way.”

♦ Take a few soft breaths

Stephen Levine, pioneering teacher on death and dying, 1937-2016. In: Levine, S. (1987). Healing into life and death, p. 204. ISBN 0-385-26219-1. Kindle edition available (2010).

“Please take a few soft breaths: /as we move from one level / to the next. / As in growth, or dying: / we need to let go / at the edge / to continue further. / Trust the process:  / let go gently / pass on gently.”

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♦ The well of grief

David Whyte, contemporary American poet. In: Whyte, D. (2019). Essentials. ISBN 1932887504

“Those who will not slip beneath / the still surface on the well of grief, / turning down through its black water / to the place we cannot breathe, / will never know the source from which we drink, / the secret water, cold and clear, / nor find in the darkness glimmering, the small round coins, / thrown by those who wished for something else.”

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♦ Rage, rage against the dying of the light

Dylan Thomas, Welsh poet, 1914-1953. Reading his own work.

“Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

♦ On death

by Kahlil Gibran, Lebanese American poet, 1883-1931. In: Gibran, K. (1927/2010). The prophet, ch. 27.

“You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you 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 the 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 but 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 its 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.”

♦ Two traditional Celtic/Irish blessings

“May the road rise up to meet you. / May the wind be always at your back. / May the sun shine warm upon your face; / the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again, / May God hold you in the palm of His hand.”

“Until we meet again, / May joy and peace surround you, / Contentment latch your door, / And happiness be with you now, / And bless you evermore.”

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♦ Nature’s course

Ryokan was a Japanese Zen monk who lived much of his life as a hermit, 1758-1831. In: Ryokan & John Stevens (ed.). (2004). Dewdrops on a Lotus Leaf: Zen Poems of Ryokan. ISBN 1590301080

“The flower invites the butterfly with no-mind;
The butterfly visits the flower with no-mind.
The flower opens, the butterfly comes;
The butterfly comes, the flower opens.
I don’t know others,
Others don’t know me.
By not-knowing we follow nature’s course.”

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♦ It Was Like This: You Were Happy                  

Jane Hirshfield, contemporary American poet, essayist, translator. In: Hirshfield, J. (reprint 2010). After: Poems. ISBN 0060779195

“It was like this:
you were happy, then you were sad,
then happy again, then not.

It went on.
You were innocent or you were guilty.
Actions were taken, or not.

At times you spoke, at other times you were silent.
Mostly, it seems you were silent—what could you say?

Now it is almost over.

Like a lover, your life bends down and kisses your life.

It does this not in forgiveness—
between you, there is nothing to forgive—
but with the simple nod of a baker at the moment
he sees the bread is finished with transformation.

Eating, too, is a thing now only for others.

It doesn’t matter what they will make of you
or your days: they will be wrong,
they will miss the wrong woman, miss the wrong man,
all the stories they tell will be tales of their own invention.

Your story was this: you were happy, then you were sad,
you slept, you awakened.
Sometimes you ate roasted chestnuts, sometimes persimmons.”

♦ No coming, no going

Thich Nhat Hanh, Vietnamese Zen master, 1926-2022. In: Thich Nhat Hanh. (Ed.). (2007). Chanting from the heart: Buddhist ceremonies and daily practices. ISBN 9781888375633

“This body is not me.
I am not limited by this body,
I am life without boundaries.
I have never been born,
and I have never died.

Look at the ocean and the sky filled with stars,
manifestations from my wondrous true mind.
Since before time, I have been free.
Birth and death are only doors through which we pass, sacred thresholds on our journey.
Birth and death are a game of hide-and-seek.

So laugh with me,
hold my hand,
let us say goodbye,
say goodbye to meet again soon.”

♦ To let it go

Mary Oliver, American poet, 1934-2019. In: Oliver, M. (2007). From “Blackwater Woods”, New and Selected Poems Volume One. ISBN 0807068772

“To live in this world / you must be able to do three things: / to love what is mortal; / to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; / and, when the time comes to let it go, / to let it go.”

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♦ The entrance to Oneness

Baba Ram Dass, American spiritual teacher, 1931-2019. In: Ram Dass & Rameshwar Das. (2021). Being Ram Dass. ISBN 1683646282

“You are loved just for being who you are, just for existing. / You don’t have to do anything to earn it. / Your shortcomings, your lack of self-esteem, physical perfection, or social and economic success—none of those matters. / No one can take this love away from you, and it will always be here. / If I go into the place in myself that is love, we are together in love. / Then you and I are truly in love, the state of being love. / That’s the entrance to Oneness.”

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♦ Prayer: I have no idea where I am going

by Fr. Thomas Merton, American Trappist monk, scholar, poet, social activist, 1915-1958. In: Pennington, B.M. (ed.). (2005). Thomas Merton: I have seen what I was looking for: Selected writings. p. 57. ISBN 1565482255

“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.  / I do not see the road ahead of me. / I cannot know for certain where it will end. / Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. / But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. / And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.

I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. / And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. / Therefore, will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. / I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”