Death will be gentle with me. Like an old friend dropping by in to see me and asking me to come along for a stroll toward the sun. I will not hesitate to entrust myself into his company. I will not pause in my steps to look back.
Or perhaps it will come while I am sitting in my soft chair, wrapped in my blanket. I will not sigh, so that others can go on with their business thinking me to be asleep.
I will know then what I always suspected, that death is not a mystery but a guide to birth. Birth – everything begins with it; child, plant, river, earth and sun, stars … that which we do not see or hear, the spirit life that some do fear.
Touch my hand
Before my voice will falter
Sit with me
Until the shadows go,
Then smile …
Chief Dan George
