The Next Room

Death is nothing at all, I have only slipped
away into the next room. I am I, and you are you.
What ever we were to each other, that
we still are. Call me by my old familiar name,
speak to me in the easy way which you
always used. Put no difference in your tone,
wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes
we enjoyed together. Pray, smile, think of me,
pray for me. Let my name be the household word
that it always was. Let it be spoken without effect,
without the trace of a shadow on it. Life means
all that it ever meant, It is the same as it ever was;
there is unbroken continuity, Why should I be
out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere
very near, just round the corner. All is well.

~by: Canon Henry Scott Holland~

For I have gone to a city where the roses
never fade.

Out of sight but never out of mind.