A reflective poem that came out of a Death, Dying and Bereavement training day because when death is not the end of life then death takes on a whole new meaning:
Death comes out of the shadows,
padding with stealthy footsteps;
like a thief in the night
to steal away life’s breath.
Death comes tumbling on the wind,
choking with gritty determination;
like a sudden desert sandstorm,
to obliterate hope and dreams.
Death comes with iron jaws,
lurking among the undergrowth;
like a hidden gin,
to bind and snare.
Death comes after sentence quashed,
counting the endless days;
like a prisoner of conscience ,
to bring welcome release.
Death comes in the shape of a cross,
like a lamb led to the slaughter
to redeem and bless humanity.