The Beauty of Death was written by Lebanese-American writer, Kahlil Gibran (1883-1931). It's presented here in a three-part series, read for dear friends who have departed our realm. We think of them and treasure the memories they leave behind.

Read the full text here: https://listenbyheart.webprojx.com/2023/08/09/special-the-beauty-of-death/.

--- The Beauty of Death by Kahlil Gibran  

Part One - The Calling  

  Let me sleep, for my soul is intoxicated with love and    Let me rest, for my spirit has had its bounty of days and nights;    Light the candles and burn the incense around my bed, and    Scatter leaves of jasmine and roses over my body;    Embalm my hair with frankincense and sprinkle my feet with perfume,    And read what the hand of Death has written on my forehead.      Let me rest in the arms of Slumber, for my open eyes are tired;    Let the silver-stringed lyre quiver and soothe my spirit;    Weave from the harp and lute a veil around my withering heart.      Sing of the past as you behold the dawn of hope in my eyes, for    It's magic meaning is a soft bed upon which my heart rests.      Dry your tears, my friends, and raise your heads as the flowers    Raise their crowns to greet the dawn.    Look at the bride of Death standing like a column of light    Between my bed and the infinite;    Hold your breath and listen with me to the beckoning rustle of    Her white wings.      Come close and bid me farewell; touch my eyes with smiling lips.    Let the children grasp my hands with soft and rosy fingers;    Let the ages place their veined hands upon my head and bless me;    Let the virgins come close and see the shadow of God in my eyes,    And hear the echo of His will racing with my breath. 

Part Two - The Ascending   

  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.    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.      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. 

Read the full text here: https://listenbyheart.webprojx.com/2023/08/09/special-the-beauty-of-death/⁠.