This week is a very sad one.
What is dying?
I am standing on the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength, and I stand and watch until at last
she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come
down to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says, “There! She is gone!”
Gone? Gone where?
Gone from my sight – that is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my
side and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of her
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment when someone at my side says,
“There! She is gone!”
There are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take
up the glad shout, “There! She comes!”
And that is dying.