Death, after all, is but a goodbye –
A promise life made,
A contract the soul signed –
We meet, we greet,
We miss, we cherish,
We search, we regret,
And then, we say goodbye.
The moments are what matter –
Albeit sometimes carried clumsily,
Albeit often with anxious heartbeats;
The memories are what count –
Albeit sometimes as bitter medicine to swallow,
Albeit often with rambling sighs to utter.
We never knew what might happen,
Between one storm and the next,
But we lived nonetheless,
Speaking of hope as if it were a covenant kept.
The rituals and celebrations,
The loose ends in need of tying up;
The pills and bills,
The unintended consequences that cannot be reversed;
The wills and will-nots,
The bucket lists that must be crossed off –
Sometimes we are too easily moved,
By the drama of our age;
Sometimes we are too calm to be unmoored,
By the irreversibility of our page.
Yet we seldom fixate on time machines.
We are, after all, our own fate-makers –
Builders, dismantlers,
Doubters, and re-creators;
Wreckers, healers,
Seekers, then finders.
Before we ever ask for directions,
For the past or the future entwined,
Ask where on the rainbow we stand right now,
In time’s gentle and mystic design.
Availability of data and materials
Data are available upon reasonable request.
Acknowledgments
The author wishes to express her gratitude to the editors and reviewers for their constructive input and insightful feedback.
Author contributions
ZS conceived the work, reviewed the literature, drafted, and edited the manuscript.
Funding
The Fundamental Research Funds for the Central Universities (4025002306); Jiangsu Provincial Institute of Health Emergency, Research Centre for Medical and Health Emergency Rescue, Xuzhou Medical University Research Projects (JSWSYJ-20240102)
Competing interests
None.
Ethics approval and consent to participate
Not applicable.
Consent for publication
Not applicable.
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