Death has always been an invitation

to inhabit the celebration

of this irreplaceable instant.

We plan and hope and fear

but death has always been here.

It’s the inevitable destination

of our vocation as embodied beings.

It’s the blessing in disguise

that helps us realize

the power of the present.

We look to the future for transformation

hoping that the next job or degree

will ease our misery

or help us contribute more fully to society.

But we are already irrevocably whole.

Only in the present can we plant a tree

or comfort a crying baby.

Only in the present can I tell you

how much you mean to me.

Only in the present can we be

the hands and hopes of divinity.

Tomorrow has never been a guarantee.

But it is precisely the uncertainty

of our individual and collective destiny

that kindles our capacity

to be fiercely and tenderly planted

in the only time we ever have.

When we land here and now

we remember how all the people we have known

have grown into our understanding.

And suddenly we are standing

with all of humanity,

certain of our capacity

to surrender to love.

Posted by kind permission of the poet.


Trust
Poetry