Halloween, All Saints, All Souls, and Easeful Death

Speak Softly

Speak softly, winds, and do not haunt me,

Blow your whispers to the sky.

Long have I heard them gently pass me,

Now please leave me alone to die.

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When I was young I looked around me,

Looked at joy and sought within.

I tried to live my days in laughter,

Shrank from death’s forsaken grin.

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I grew up older and you told me

How flowers blossom, fade then die.

You said that all things were to wither,

Said my heart was not to lie.

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I learned to love the wind’s soft whisper,

Glowing stars and lands to roam.

I could not bear the thought of dying,

Leaving a world which was my own.

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I saw my hands grow old and wrinkled,

Knew that soon my time was done.

My mind could hear the winds still whisper:

‘Look out, my friend, you too will be gone!’

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And now, my life and joy behind me,

I listen to death’s awaiting sigh.

I’m old and tired and long to rest,

No longer need I fear to die.