By talking about „dying“ it’s not meant to die in a physical way. I probably wouldn’t have been able to write this poem then. 😏
The moon and the stars
they seem so far
away but when I open my eye
it’s haunting me because after I’ve died
for the, I don’t know, first or thousandst time
They are not just a picture in the sky
anymore and my eye is open wide.
I can see much more of the universe,
of the parts we all are,
when the night is not disturbed
by the sun although she’s the biggest star.
Oh, what a mistake to think light makes everything clear.
It’s the deep dark night that our mind is used to fear.
there are no words to tell you from the beauty after dying.