What Is Dying?

What is dying?

I am standing on the seashore alone
Like a ship about to sail this morn.

But the morning breeze is far from me.

How do I sail? Am I not a dead man?

At the seashore I see many ships sailing freely.
Mine is an object and I stand watching her
Till at last the sun fades from the horizon.

What is dying and am I not as well dead?

I looked up across and someone at my side said,

“Your boat is gone!” and I wondered “But gone where?”
“Surely, it’s gone from my sight,” I thought to myself.
What is dying if this is not death?

Today I’m a mast, a hull and a spar to all ships,
I bear the load of living freights to their destinations.
But soon, I’ll be diminished in size and I’ll be

Lost to sight, totally lost to all faces, to all voices
If there were love, someone would say, “Where is he?”
And other voices would take up a glad shout,

And they would find me alone in the hay-store.
Without a love, I’ve been dead many years ago.

And God said: who can bring these dead bones to life?