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Mothers,fathers,our kind,tell me again that death doesn't matter.Tell me it's just a limitation of vision ,a fold of landscape,a deep flax-and-poppy-filled gully hidden on the hill, pleat in our perception a somersault of existence,natural,even beneficent even a gift,the only key to the red-lacquered door at the end of the hall,"water within water," those old stories.

Mothers,fathers,our kind,tell me again that death doesn't matter.Tell me it's just a limitation of vision ,a fold of landscape,a deep flax-and-poppy-filled gully hidden on the hill, pleat in our perception a somersault of existence,natural,even beneficent even a gift,the only key to the red-lacquered door at the end of the hall,"water within water," those old stories.

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Attribution & collection notes
Author or tradition
Pattiann Rogers
Attribution: attributed
Country attributed
Not established
A country attribution does not establish the earliest origin.
Historical period
Historical period not yet established
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Contributor-provided quotation collection

Supplied reference C; CSV row 32628; supplied attribution, independently unverified

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