Because I could not stop for Death: The Journey Onward
Creative Poetry Continuation
This is an artistic fantasy inspired by the poem Β«Because I could not stop for DeathΒ» by Emily Dickinson. How might the verse have sounded if the poet had continued their thought?
Original excerpt
Because I could not stop for Death β
He kindly stopped for me β
The Carriage held but just Ourselves β
And Immortality.
We slowly drove β He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility β
Since then β 'tis Centuries β and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity β
Because I could not stop for Death β
He kindly stopped for me β
The Carriage held but just Ourselves β
And Immortality.
We slowly drove β He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility β
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess β in the Ring β
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain β
We passed the Setting Sun β
Or rather β He passed Us β
The Dews drew quivering and Chill β
For only Gossamer, my Gown β
My Tippet β only Tulle β
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground β
The Roof was scarcely visible β
The Cornice β in the Ground β
Since then β 'tis Centuries β and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity β
~ ~ ~
But Eternity β has Rooms β
I did not know β before β
Some furnished β with a single Light β
Some β with an open Door β
The Centuries β have Tenants here β
Who never speak β aloud β
But gesture β with a silent Hand β
Like Figures β in a Crowd β
I asked of Death β if He had seen
The ones I left β behind β
He smiled β the way a Lantern does β
When Wind β disturbs its Kind β
He said β the Living do not know
How thin β the Wall between β
A Breath β a Cobweb β and a Thought β
Is all there is β to Screen β
I pressed my Palm against the Air β
And felt β a Warmth come through β
As if a Hand β on some far Side β
Was reaching β for me too β
The Carriage β waits β it always waits β
The Horses β do not tire β
They've carried Pharaohs β Poets β Saints β
And every lost Desire β
I've learned β that Death is not a Place β
But rather β a Degree β
A slightly different Angle β on
The Light β we used to see β
The Children β at their Recess β still
Are playing β in the Ring β
The Gazing Grain β still gazes up β
The Birds β remember Spring β
And I β who could not stop for Death β
Now find β I cannot leave β
Not out of Chains β but out of Love β
For all that still β believes β
The House β that swelled β beneath the Ground β
Is not so dark β as told β
It has a Window β facing East β
Where Mornings β turn to Gold β
And through that Glass β I watch the World β
Continue β as before β
Each Sunrise β an Apology β
Each Sunset β something More β
So should you feel β a Presence near β
When Dusk β begins to fall β
It may be just β the Centuries β
Remembering β you all β
The Carriage β rocks β the Horses β breathe β
Immortality β keeps still β
And Death β that courteous Gentleman β
Drives on β as Gentlemen will β
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