Poem: Everybody Dies; Nobody Wants To | Sixty And Me

poem:-everybody-dies;-nobody-wants-to-|-sixty-and-me
Have you pondered, dear one, what comes after goodbye? 
What waits in the wings when it's your time to fly?
If you’re over sixty, or older than that,
No doubt you’ve posed questions in many a chat.

You've been to funerals, more recent this year,
And now you wonder, through memories and tears:
What’s next for me? Where do I go?
Is it cold? Is it quiet? Is it fast? Is it slow?

If death makes you squirm or gives you a fright,
You’re not alone when awakened at night.
But what if, dear one, it’s not something to dread?
What if it’s not an end – this thought sticks in your head.

There’s a tale to be told, it’s light-hearted as well,
‘bout a happy place nicknamed as “Earth’s Grand Hotel.”
This poem’s from an old soul, a wise one named Theo,
Who dropped by to share what he thought you should know.

According to Theo, Earth’s a grand learning place –
Filled with souls on the grow, each in their own space.
Each checks in to grow, to laugh, and to cry,
When finished, you check out again, but you don’t just die.

No, you don’t vanish as a puff of smoke,
You leave worry behind about rules that you broke.
And you head to a spot where love is the rule,
A heavenly realm... a kind of Soul School.

No tests. No grades. No flunk and no pass,
No judges who frown as they lead judgment classes.
It’s where you reflect on the life that you’ve led,
On the love that you gave and on words said and unsaid,

You reflect how you lived through the good and the rough,
When life gave you lemons and made things so tough.
You may have learned patience, or how to be kind,
or how to forgive and bring peace to your mind.

If you are sixty or older, your life is not through,
Even if you’re closer to one hundred and two.
And you’re thinking of endings, or what’s just ahead,”
Let Theo remind you: “There’s nothing to dread.”

You are not broken. Nor are you done.
Your soul is eternal, like the sky and the sun. ​
Death’s not a goodbye. It’s a door just ajar –
And through it you’ll travel, a light, brilliant star.

So, breathe now, dear reader. Relax every part.
Put love in your pocket and joy in your heart.
Treat life as a class with your soul as a student,
Be curious, kind, and perhaps a bit prudent.

Don’t rush to be perfect or fix every flaw –
Live with more laughter and stand back in awe,
of the birds in the trees and above the blue sky.
Give thanks for the journey before your goodbye.

When you step through the door, guess what you’ll see?
A welcome! A party! A soul jubilee!

Your story’s still growing, still flowing, still bright –
So fill your next chapter with joy and delight!
And hold a thought that has always been true,
The best goal in life is being the “you-ie-est you!"


Let’s Have a Conversation:

What are your views of dying? Do you dread the moment or have you come to peace with mortality?

Share:

More Posts

is-basket-weaving-a-lost-art?-|-sixty-and-me

Is Basket Weaving A Lost Art? | Sixty And Me

There is something almost defiant about weaving a basket in a world addicted to plastic. Some call it a “lost art,” as if it vanished quietly into the attic with butter churns and hand-sewn quilts. But basket weaving never disappeared. It simply slipped out of the spotlight. All across the

Read More »
a-clinical-aromatherapy-approach-to-varicose-veins-|-sixty-and…

A Clinical Aromatherapy Approach To Varicose Veins | Sixty And…

Varicose veins are one of the most common vascular concerns affecting women ages 50–60. While often perceived as cosmetic, they reflect deeper structural and functional changes within the aging venous system. Chronic venous insufficiency (CVI) increases significantly with age, particularly in post-menopausal women, due to hormonal decline, vascular remodeling, and reduced

Read More »
a-walking-oxymoron-in-nine-small-stories-|-sixty-and…

A Walking Oxymoron In Nine Small Stories | Sixty And…

The word oxymoron comes from two Greek roots: oxys, meaning sharp or keen, and mōros, meaning dull or foolish. Put together, the word itself is a contradiction – sharp-dull – making oxymoron an oxymoron. It first appeared in English in the 1650s, which means for centuries we have delighted in

Read More »

Send Us A Message