A Mile in Death's Shoes

I asked you once what it is you saw.
The fields of war, empty rooms of a hospital floor
Perhaps the crumbled forms that are the victims of your work.
Did you attend the funerals of those you took?
Or perhaps you sent a messenger to overlook the last of your deed.
You responded to me that what you see is more than just these cursory scenes.
That I have failed to consider your vast and endless hospitality.
The souls you accept, the willingness of your mind to not be prejudiced.
You offered me the chance to see as you see, to be as you be, to live once as death so that life could be clear.
I accepted the offer, with more than a little hesitancy.
I arrived on the day we had pre-arranged.
I had no idea what I could expect.
I remember it all, so clear as today.
The hands of the sick, the laughter of the free.
The healthy ones, the crying ones, the lonely ones, the prideful ones, the smallest ones;
All freed by a touch, a last gasp, a dying wish that the earth may yet fulfill.
And I saw the world, just as you see:
The way it is, the way it ought to be, the cost of living, the debt we all come to pay.
And
Through the eyes of Death I have learned:
The glory of Living.
And, in Living I have learned:
To let things die
By letting that which must pass
Die
I have found the limitless of my Love
And, in Life, as in Death
I have learned that only in Love will we have no limits.