Sonnet on Death

When death is spoken of by humankind, though rarely, it may come up in hushed tones. A vague chill courses up and down the spine and an icy vein of dread flowers through the bones. The thought that life is just an ebbing tide and the future holds finality is something frightened souls cannot abide. No one wants to face mortality. This trepidation seems to make no sense. To me, a great adventure for us waits. The ultimate of all experience lies just within those dark, foreboding gates. I bear my own demise no animosity. Contrarily, I've mostly curiosity. by Lisa (Teel) Rodriguez 1983