While I thought that I was learning how to live,
I have been learning how to die.
                    — Leonardo da Vinci 

It will come to you wrapped
in the soft cerements
             of the after-dark rains,
will enter your awareness like
the whisper of a long-ago companion.

             You will want to stay.

No one will insist you welcome it.
At first, you will speak more often
               in the future tense,
but soon you will tire of words
and wish for a silence in which to

               make ready.

You may trust in this: that all will be
accomplished with immense care.
                Your body,
old companion, will still be there
to lead you, having always known

                 the way.