The Beauty of Death - Part Two

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The Ascending

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Kahlil Gibran

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I have passed a mountain peak and my soul is soaring in the Firmament of complete and unbound freedom; I am far, far away, my companions, and the clouds are Hiding the hills from my eyes.

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The valleys are becoming flooded with an ocean of silence, and the Hands of oblivion are engulfing the roads and the houses; The prairies and fields are disappearing behind a white specter That looks like the spring cloud, yellow as the candlelight And red as the twilight.

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The songs of the waves and the humans of the streams Are scattered, and the voices of the throngs reduced to silence; And I can hear naught but the music of Eternity In exact harmony with the spirit's desires. I am cloaked in full whiteness; I am in comfort; I am in peace.