We spend our lives

Wondering

What is it to die?

What happens after?

Why?

A child was born

Grew, changed

In some ways recognizable as when (s)he was a child

Yet that child, all my children, I knew, I coddled, with whom I spent so many hours

Now gone

Not unlike death, not as suddenly

But just as gone.

Is death very much the same?

Sudden or gradual

Simply a change, a shift

One experience to another

As a child faces growth as an adventure

Not fearful

Sometimes apprehensive, but welcoming of change

Be as a child.

For now we look in a mirror dimly

Then, face to face.