Little fly,
Thy summer’s play
My thoughtless hand
Has brushed away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
And drink and sing,
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength and breath,
And the want
Of thought is death,
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.
Author William Blake – 1757-1827
After reading about William Blake, it seems he might have been a little troubled, but who am I to say.
The Bible attaches great importance to the death of Jesus. Did his death have a purpose?
If it should be, that I grow frail and weak,
And pain should keep me from my sleep,
Then, you must do what must be done
For this, the last battle, can’t be won.
Don’t let your grief stay your hand,
For this day more than the rest,
Your love and friendship stand the test.
We’ve had so many years,
What is to come can hold no fear.
You’d not want me to suffer, so
When the time comes, please let me go.
Take me where my needs they’ll tend,
Only, stay with me to the end
And hold me firm and speak to me
Until my eyes no longer see.
I know in time you’ll see it is a kindness you do for me
Although my tail its last has waved,
From pain and suffering I’ve been saved.
Don’t grieve it should be you who this thing decides to do.
We’ve been so close, we two, these years,
Don’t let your heart hold tears.
Smile, for we walked together for awhile.
image:https://www.lovemeow.com/praying-kitten-1607997507.html
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