Quiet Understandings

What is life without death?

Among the breadth of the meadows,

The reaper does sing.

The moon shall ring with light

So gently cast among the ground.

On white marbled floor,

Pour thine handprint, a ring of soot.

The quiet of mind,

To end would be too kind.

But then what, to only sit among the ripples of water whilst the rain doth pour.

To drown without a crown,

Surrounded by life that hath passed by.

Tendrils of tattered cloak pass as mist through the night,
The eyes of the watcher know only too well of death.

The smallest of kisses could set free the spirit so capsulated in dark.
For what is life without death?