By Rumi

On the day I die,
when I am being carried toward the grave,
don’t weep. Don’t say, He’s gone, He’s gone.

Death has nothing to do with going away,
The sun sets and the moon sets,
but they’re not gone.

Death is a coming together.
The tomb looks like a prison,
but it’s really release into union.

The human seed goes down into the ground
like a bucket into the well where Joseph is.

It grows and comes up
full of some unimagined beauty.

Your mouth closes here
and immediately opens
with a shout of joy there.

Rumi – Translated by Coleman Barks

(Contributed by Zoë Robinson, H.W., M. on the passing of Prospero Joe Ciriello on August 28, 2021)