• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 06
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Death is close, today. At the forefront. In the picture. Present.
But life is never far behind.

Look beyond bristling, skeletal, gently warning death to the bulging belly of the tree behind and see the foetal figure waiting to be born. Life grows in the belly of the tree behind death.

Death says, with that raised forefinger and that gently inclined, ‘Listen-to-me’ head, ‘There’ll be life after yours. It will be born. Where there’s life there’s also, necessarily, death. One cannot exist without the other.’

So the day will come when we make room for the ones behind. But until that day, death says, ‘Where there’s life there’s hope.’ He says that because he’s sitting on a termite mound. A place where air winds along tiny termite-built tunnels. A place where there’s oxygen for all levels of life.

So breathe and celebrate, wherever you are, whatever your level, whatever hangs in the balance. Breathe and celebrate until the last day comes.

But even then, know that life, even if not your own, is never far behind.