Mark Strand 1934 - 2014
Even this late it happens:
the coming of love, the coming of light.
You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.
https://www.theculturium.com/alan-jacobs-poems-to-make-the-soul-sing/
"These bodies are known to have an end. The Dweller within is eternal, imperishable, infinite".
Bhagavad Gita, Verse 18.11
