—Emily Dickinson, # 510
It was not Death’s hearse of autumn leaves
slowing down to find my Last Testament.
If I made the smallest dent, I hope it was with Love.
Nothing in this reflective silence is long enough.
Nothing stops ticking in order to speak of me.
I came into the world with nothing except in Love;
and I leave behind nothing of value except Love.
Love—Love never stops. It keeps on going.
Art credit: "Ocean Waves and Beach," still from a video by AnaMarques.
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