The Gift of Death

When I thought Death was a specter
that sat patiently in the corner of a room
waiting to rip us from all that is dear,
I feared him.

Now, watching him work,
I see that he is a kind nurse,
cleansing,
folding us inward,
anointing our wounds
and wrapping us in clean white sheets
for the journey.

Death prepares us as a beautiful gift
to be opened by our father
in gratitude and great rejoicing.