On dying Speak to me in silence and in love, Hold me in your heart. Let your eyes reflect Our moments and our days. Days gone and days to be Tipping up into nothingness Hold my hand, my love But not my soul When the call comes, Speed me softly on, But hold my hand. Fear not my frailty and my pain Spoon with me Your body shielding mine, Arms enfolding, Gently holding. Cry with me Tears of anger And of joy, For times never to be And times remembered - Bitter-sweet memories. Don't be strong - be you Rage,cry and mourn my going And when I'm gone, Find solace in this: You held me But never hindered me. You gave me courage To stay the course Until the end. I wait for you Until we meet again. I'm NOT dying. These thoughts were prompted by a visit I made to a friend who is dying. Nothing was said, but her frailty and the million unspoken words in her eyes made me imagine what she might think or say. Although she will never see it, I offer up this poem to her respectfully and lovingly.