A dream of Yitzhak, son of David, son of Gershon, son of Kos ha Levi. A dream of the Garden. In pain, in fear, I turned to sleep. I found in dreams a haven. A woman came as my guide, older, standing straight and tall. What troubles you Child? Why so distraught? What causes these tears? What brings you such fear? The fear of death, The pain that comes when life must end, When all that had been can no more be, When all that is bright can no longer be seen. You would not know of what I speak. You live in the Garden. Death may not enter. No, a time of ending comes to all, A time of one last sleep, A time for friends and loves to weep, A time to sing no more, A time to die. Death is no friend. Seek it not. But to all it must come, To all it must come. I looked at her eyes To see the tears I heard in her voice, To face her pain, her sense of loss. Her death was close at hand. I found a smile, tears of sweet parting. I do not fear dying, though my time is near. I hold tightly to being alive, To the sweet singing of those who have loved me, To the caress of those who are dear. Death is not welcome. I’d live forever. But when I’m taken, I’ll go without fear. Though I am dying those who have loved me Cherish my soul and speak of my name, So in their memory, I’ll live forever, Dancing and signing again and again. Come with me, Child. Meet those I love, Find out the reasons the end can be good. Meet with my lovers, meet with my friends, Meet with my children. Meet with my soul. And as she spoke she seemed to be younger, Seemed to be glowing with light and with fire. Something within me wanted her passion, Wanted to share what kept her alive. Swiftly we walked to the home of her family, A house of much laughing and love in the air, A house where the working and playing all jumbled, A house of old children and adults who dare To still be like children and slide down the stair. A man came to greet us, and with him a woman. My guide took their hands and kissed each in turn: My son and his lover, dear loves of mine, Weave with each other words used for singing To cherish the souls both living and dead. They’ll sing you my stanzas if you would but ask them, That you may know of me, and speak of me, too. And with affection they sang of a woman Who as a maiden wedded for love, Bearing a son, bearing three daughters, Working the looms, working the forge, Writing of worlds seen by no other, Saving a life and wedding another, Bearing more children and damming a stream, Giving her heart to all she could cherish, A woman of sweetness, bold, bright and clean. Then with a smile my guide kissed the children, Looking at me, seeking my face, Asking a question I now had to answer. Out from my soul the words of their singing, Came with a passion I’ll never forget. Lifting the pain that had had me troubled, A burden no longer, the lesson well learned. When I awakened late in the morning, I still remembered much of that song. And to my children I try to sing it, And try to teach them words for my song. I still am frightened. This is no Garden. Who will remember to speak my name? Who will remember to sing out my song. Oh, how I’m trying to reach out to others, To make of my living, my loves and my friends, A network of feeling, of joy and of song. And as I see how they care about me, Fear grips less tightly, life feels more sweet. I will hold tightly to the last moment To the dear feeling of being alive, To the sweet singing of those who have loved me, To the caress of those who are dear. Death is not welcome. I’d live forever. If the Lord grants me folk who remember, Then when I’m taken, It will be without fear.