Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning,
We will come back to earth some fragrant night,
And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending
Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white.
We will come down at night to these resounding beaches
And the long gentle thunder of the sea,
Here for a single hour in the wide starlight
We shall be happy, for the dead are free.
I have been preparing the words I want to be read at my husband’s funeral tomorrow. John died last week after a lengthy battle with Parkinson’s disease and Dementia. When I read the words of this poem, I imagined him being able to leave his body and enjoy the sea that he loved so much. Life was not kind to him but I felt this poem showed the kindness that his death may bring.l Thank you Sara – I searched long and hard.