Poems (Rumell)/Death
DEATH
What we call death, is a great white Gate,That we cease to fear, as we cease to hate.It is only death to the earthly man,Tis really rebirh, to the spiritual plane.
The Gate swings back, at some thought command,And we step forth into the future land.Me thinks, we will find swept on by that tide,Material life, a worn garment, just laid aside!
And so we take up life in the sphere it began,In though: as I see the beginning of man.Some lower, some higher, as our thot forces go,There, we attain our Ideals. glimpsed here below!
Can we call this Gate, Death, which to us means End?When beyond its portals we but begin, to blendWith Infinite mind, the God thought or Love,And attain the highest, for which here we strove?