What is Death?
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
that we still are.Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference in your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without affect,
without the trace of a shadow on it.Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?I am waiting for you,
for an interval,
somewhere very near,
just around the corner.All is well.
~ Henry Scott Holland
Please note, I have not recently suffered a bereavement. I admire this poem and wanted to take an image to fit it.
Focused Moments 
Beautifully written.
Isn’t it. A lovely poem.
Glad to hear that, not the first touch of death in your posts of late!
Lovely atmosphere there. Where did you take it, if it’s not giving away anything top secret?
Montreal cathedral. Thanks. 🙂
I actually read the writer’s Wikipedia bio after your post. This quote turns up quite often nowadays, but I first recall seeing Laurence Olivier recite it on TV in an interview a long time ago. Turns out the writer had a pretty interesting life as a kind of socialist clergyman (if that’s the right term).
I googled him too. I read the whole sermon from which this ‘poem’ is extracted. Very interesting. A different slant on the words once you read them in context.
you found a good photographic match..
Thanks, Helen.