Death
Is always
Walking
Us home.

Death has way
Of shaking us
Awake.
By showing
Us what is real.

Showing
Us where
We have
Forgotten to live.

Shaking us,
By the roots,
Letting us know,
It will arrive,
One day.

Death is the
Only guarantee.
The only guarantee
We try to outrun.

Try to keep
At bay,
By physical
Security.

Death doesn’t
Care whether,
We are young,
Old,
Rich,
Poor,
Skinny,
Successful,
Or otherwise.

Death’s only question:
Have you lived yet?

Have you spent
Days raging the seas,
Of grief,
Days riding
The highs of love’s
Sweet ecstasy in you,
As you?

Days of jubilation,
And days of
Staleness and soured milk.

Death asks nothing
Of us,
But to make sure
We know
What it means
To live.

To breathe in the
Fullest breath,
To sink into mud
Of the earth,
And know her as
Home for just
A while.

Sink into these
Bodies as homes
We have been given,
To birth,
And and give back life.

In the end,
Death’s only question:
Have you lived yet?