The Noose Is Cut

Whispering death, beckoning,
Calling my name.
Liberation, likewise,
Sweet, silent pull, is but the same.

No escape
I'll pass away,
Immortality?
Perhaps another day.

Or letting go,
Of all I'm not
Salvation realized,
The noose is cut.

Now, when death calls
I'll be free,
For 'I' am already in
Eternity.

The Eternally Cornered Poet

This Poem was inspired by the work of The Mystic Poet Kabir, and I wrote several blog posts on his work on my Self-Knowledge blog.