When you think of your own death, it's sad for you. Even when you would welcome death, the thought that you will not look out from your window to see the sunlight sparkle through the trees one more time, causes you exquisite pain. You think, "I won't be here. Here will still be, but without me." This makes you cry.

The tiniest bit of life becomes precious to you. You wonder how the world can keep going on without you in it. You wonder deeply how you can keep going without the world and your involvement in it.

Even when you desire to step off the plane of Human life, you don't want to let go of it. You don't want to let go of whatever cards you are holding.

The sun falls on a flower, and the combination of the sun on the flower is a precious drawing. It is great art. No museum has it. It is the original. Even though the sun will move in a moment and the scene will effervesce, you wonder how you can live without it. You mourn ahead of time, and the red rose in a pot outside your window goes blithely on being a rose as if you don't matter to it at all.

Escaping the pain of Earth had seemed so desirable to you, and now you weep at the thought of your own death. You weep at the thought of your own absence from worldly life. Earth life may not have been everything you wanted, yet it had something you wanted.

You may feel that you never came to grips with life in the world. You never got a handle on it. You tried. How you tried, but, in truth, you really wanted to get it over and done with. You wanted to get away from it. Now, in this moment of the sun between leaves, you're not sure even what your desire for Heaven was about. In other times, the thought of leaving Earth and being in Heaven was your saving. The thought of Heaven made life on Earth tolerable, and now, suddenly, in this moment of the sun between leaves, Earth life seems so desirable.

You have heard before to live your life on Earth as if it were your very first day, and you have heard to live it as if it were your very last. Every day is short-lived. Just live it, beloveds. You are recognizing that it is all precious, and it is all running through your fingers.

Even the annoyances are precious. What if you never heard water running in the sink again? What if you never put your hands in hot soapy dishwater again? What if you never heard a noise, never felt a rough surface, never tasted something you didn't like, never burnt anything on the stove, never braved the traffic, never had to fix your car, never had to hang around waiting for someone, never had to stub your toe, never had to weep at someone else's death.

Suddenly, the way the moving sunlight in its yellowness falls on a red flower and the flower's green leaves breaks your heart. The sun light has moved on now and it alights on another flower and another tree and another person. The sun is dispassionate. It means no offense by moving on nor does it mind that it leaves your view and the flower you loved with all your heart for this split second of eternity. It does not mourn leaving at all. The sun knows it is always.

When the time comes, you too will move on just like the light of the sun, shining and weaving your way, knowing that you are always and not minding that you leave one flower for another.