Is death just returning home again?  Some say so.  I don’t know.

On Coming Home Again
by Michael Romani

It's a matter of fact
There's no going back
Only moving ever forward
Hoping this moment takes us toward

The new worlds at twilight
Between the old day and new night
Always grasping for that tomorrow
Somewhere between happiness and sorrow

To fine our peace, we must atone
Without this surrender, we walk alone
The edges of the future silently surround
Even as we run our ships aground

The final tombstone dresses the hill
As the stars of midnight find the air still
Joined with mercy into eternity's quiet
Going gentle, indeed, into the night

Life is a store of our own accumulation
A gathering of comforts felt in fascination
But, in the end, it is but accepting loss
As into the abyss, we stir and then toss

To die they say is to simply come home
To find family and never again be alone
But, as this comes in its own terms
I'll live my life fully before I feed those worms

(c) November 26, 2018  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved