Nature
As a fond mother, when the day is o’er,
Leads by the hand her little child to bed,
Half willing, half reluctant to be led,
And leave his broken playthings on the floor,
Still gazing at them through the open door,
Nor wholly reassured and comforted
By promises of others in their stead,
Which though more splendid, may not please him more;
So Nature deals with us, and takes away
Our playthings one by one, and by the hand
Leads us to rest so gently, that we go
Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay,
Being too full of sleep to understand
How far the unknown transcends the what we know.

Yes it is comforting somehow.
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Ah yes. That poem. When Wadsworth was good, he was very, very good. Just please … don’t quote anything from rainbow bridge. It might make my head explode. We lost 3 dogs this year. It has been a little rough. We all need to remember to breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
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You are the third to mention rainbow bridge, and I don’t know what it is. And I apologize for knowing you’d lost three dogs this year and knowing how you must be grieving them but not really knowing until the past few days.
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I haven’t read your posts as being about death. I’ve heard them as mourning the loss of a beloved life – which is something else entirely.
People grieve in different ways. You shared words and stories beautifully told to process your sadness. Who could find fault with that? On Tue, Oct 11, 2016 at 9:44 PM lifelessons – a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown wrote:
> lifelessons posted: ” I have always found the below poem comforting and > so, after quoting a line of it to Marilyn Armstrong just now, decided to > share it with you all, as well. That said, I promise. No more posts about > death. For awhile ” >
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Thanks so much, Sheila. How we need our friends to validate what we feel are our failures–to patch us up and send us out to play again.
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I recently read “death is not the opposite of life, death is the opposite of birth”. Helped me be with my sadness a little easier.
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I’ve had this sensation three times in my life as I watched my father, my husband and recently, Frida die. It felt so much like assisting in the birth of something.
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Nice rendition of this poem … Cheers Jamie
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