Death sits calmly by the side of the suffering
The emaciated and the weary
He waits patiently.
Never looking at the clock or stirring impatiently
He does not tap his foot
Or groan as he waits upon us
He arrives beside us exactly on time
He does not blow a trumpet or sound a horn.
He has never lost a battle
He rides slowly in with a flag he waits to hand to you
He knows you will accept it
It is the white flag of surrender
He hands it to you before he goes to harvest
Sometimes he dismounts and simply stands patiently over us
You cannot see a twinkling eye or loving smile
Because Death is meant to be cloaked
He is not to influence
He wants us to fight to the end
To have a great and abundant yield
Dear Death does more than usher you into the afterlife
He is also with the living
He has been the reaper of many harvests with you
Yes the living! Yes many harvests!
He is the usher of change
To those that are marked for greatness and ascension
He is the aid for their suffering
He helps the living die to things that do not serve them
We have many harvests in our lives
He stands beside you as you tremble in fear at the thought of change
And the fear of the unknown
Ready to hand you the flag of surrender, knowing you will accept it
He knows that greater things are in store for you.
He knows when the harvest is ripe
A harvest of wisdom that eases suffering
Soothes the mind
Fills the stomach and heals the wounds
He is the ender of things that do not serve you
Surrender is his offering
The Ender yes.
But also the Birther of the true self
The usher of New life
His purpose lingers in the air around us
Whispering…..
Surrender
Death
Harvest.
Little Wren 
Dropdrop
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