Softly (A poem for dead people)

Softly we cry, and so softly I beat
In time with the sorrow, helping us weep;
But is there a need for music so sweet
When sorrow’s worn out, while joy is a sleep?

Don’t despair of me, for death hasn’t won;
Our hearts now broken will always be one.
So take comfort and be soft as a dove;
We will survive by giving-in to love.

Hold on to the hand that crosses your brow,
Please give me your hand, sit down and rest now;
For there is no more that you need to know
Than the certainty of my love aglow.

Do cry for me, you will need a good cry!
For if you do not, I’ll want reasons why.
Cry for a day, then be blue for a year;
After that, I don’t want another tear.

And please comfort me as I will do you:
Let us re-name the universe anew;
Look, there’s uranus and this is my bum,
De dum de dum, de dum de dum dum.

Softly, come softly, don’t trouble the air
With exhausted breath, or out and out stare.
Dry your dear eyes, and let your nerves fall still.
Love the love inside; dispense it at will.

So softly, and gently, welcome that night
Which augurs the season’s change into light.
As my body turns cold, my heart burns anew
Though my soul’s comfort is a torture too

But do not rebel, though rebellion is rife -
Death is to be loved, because it is life;
So soft in my death, be soft in this strife -
Go hard into tackles, but soft into life.