Death: A celebration!

I looked through the window of a school,

Oh! Wait, it's my home,

Someone is waiting outside for me.

I remember it was dawn a few minutes ago, and now it's dusk.

Days count into months and then years,

I wait slowly, for I will be free.

The stranger looks known,

He looks like I have died a thousand times earlier.

Just in case, I slip away silently,

Tell everyone that I loved, I am still alive.

It's the clothes that I wore once, have died.

My body, my belongings, "me" have died,

and yet, I am alive,

Travelling through time,

waiting for my other healing through a different birth.

How strange world it is,

Is this what you are thinking?

Trying to solve every puzzle that you get while still knowing the answer?

What is it that you want?

Is it love, yes? I know it's love, love.

You see, I don't want to come back.

The grave is not my home, neither this body.

But then why do I come back again and again?

Maybe this all is a lesson in disguise,

you are no different to a tree or an animal,

They will fade away and join nature,

and you will do the same,

yes, the same energy.

So, what is so special about you?

Yes, you are living every moment.

Existing with nature, isn`t it?

The stranger is now at the doorstep,

It's dark now, and I am deep asleep.

I wake up in the morning, and I am still alive,

Or have I died?

My parents call me by my name,

However, it feels like something has died.

Oh! Yes, something has died.

This new life starts again,

For I have died a thousand times earlier,

Now, I see him quite far, but it looks like he is again moving towards my home,

waiting for the dusk, maybe I will wake up again or slip away slowly.

Maybe I will be the light?

Days count into months and then years,

I wait slowly, for I will be free,

Oh! Yes, I will be free.

John Everett Millais, Ophelia, 1851-52

-Isha

Ps: Its a poem of celebration.