Stand Naked in the Wind


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for what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?*

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Cancelar Excluir. Was he ever ready, with words of good cheer, To bring back a smile, to banish a tear? Not what did the sketch in the newspaper say, But how many were sorry when he passed away? What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now forever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind.

William Wordsworth, Intimations of Immortality. And when the stream that overflows has passed, A consciousness remains upon the silent shore of memory; Images and precious thoughts that shall not be And cannot be destroyed.

for what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?*

William Wordsworth, from The Excursion. This is what it is all about. There is no longer any room for pretence.

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At harvest time the essence is revealed — the straw and chaff are set aside, they have done their job. The grain alone matters — sacks of pure gold. So it is when a person dies the essence of that person is revealed. Then it will not be the great achievement that will matter, nor, how much money or possessions a person has amassed. These like the straw and the chaff, will be left behind.

It is what he has made of himself that will matter. Death can take away from us what we have, but it cannot rob us of who we are. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. Let the dead Past bury its dead!

Act, — act in the living Present! Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends It gives a lovely light!

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Edna St. Vincent Millay. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond; And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow, your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity…. For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.


  • The Bard, or Kobzar;
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  • And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. We seem to give them back to Thee, 0 God who gavest them to us.

    Stand Naked in the Wind and Melt into the Sun | Mommy Mystic

    Yet as Thou didst not lose them in giving, So do we not lose them by their return. Not as the world giveth, givest Thou 0 Lover of souls. What Thou givest Thou takest not away, For what is Thine is ours also if we are thine. And life is eternal and love is immortal, And death is only an horizon, And an horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight. Lift us up, strong Son of God that we may see further; Cleanse our eyes that we may see more clearly; Draw us closer to Thyself That we may know ourselves to be nearer to our loved ones who are with Thee.

    And while Thou dost prepare a place for us, prepare us also for that happy place, That where Thou art we may be also for evermore. Adapted by Bishop Brent. A ship sails and I stand watching till she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says She is gone.


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    Gone from my sight, that is all. She is just as large now as when I last saw her. Her diminished size and total loss from my sight is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says she is gone there are others who are watching her coming over their horizon and other voices take up a glad shout There she comes! That is what dying is. An horizon and just the limit of our sight.

    Lift us up, Oh Lord, that we may see further Bishop Brent. May the roads rise up to meet you, May the wind be always at your back, May the sun shine warm upon your face, May the rains fall soft upon fields And until we meet again May God hold you in the palm of his hand. God looked around his garden And found an empty place, He then looked down upon the earth And saw your tired face.

    He put his arms around you And lifted you to rest. He knew that you were suffering He knew you were in pain. He knew that you would never Get well on earth again.

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