All through my long heavy life, angels whispered, "Lighten up!"
In each opening bud, each moth wing or burst of blueberry on my tongue, Mother Divine revealed my brevity: a thousand hints a day of wondrous impermanence!
But every playful message of mortality brought fear of disaster. This is the condition of my human mind. Instead of playfulness, I saw the weight of death everywhere.
Yet still in my fading, as I gazed through my window, I saw blossoms burst, birds sing and vanish, magnificent cloud shapes shift and dissolve, and I heard the ancient whisper.
Finally, the moment approaches. "I knew it, I knew death would come. There was every reason to be gloomy after all!" Yes, death, the dreaded doorway: I face the burden of judgment. What now?
It opens. But day does not shut down in darkness. The shadow lifts. My body does not grow heavier. A single breath releases the entire weight. And the silence that once whispered now sings: radiant dew of interlacing voices, domed harmony of transparent spheres, rising vortex of joy. What happens to "me"?
I lighten up.
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