what if it isn’t dying
that shakes us,
but the mirror it holds?
the mirror that shows
where we turned away —
from the love we longed for,
from the song in our chest,
from the truth in our bones.
what if the fear
is not of the end,
but of never having begun?
death, then,
is not the enemy,
but the witness —
reflecting the paths
left waiting.
and if we see it now,
while breath is still ours,
the mirror may yet
become mercy.
the fire of regret
becomes
the flame of living.
at last.
……….
while breath is ours, the mirror is mercy.
the path is waiting.
the flame is living.
© 2025 Corvalya
Reflection
This poem was born from what I witnessed — the quiet fear that rises not only in the face of death, but in the recognition of what has been left un-lived.
At this stage of life, I feel both the nearness of my own mortality and the weight of watching others make their way through struggle and change.
I stand as a witness — to lives unfolding, to choices made, and to paths still waiting.
And yet, I believe this: as long as breath is in us, the mirror of death can still become mercy. We can still step onto the waiting path. We can still let regret kindle into the flame of living.
This is our hope.
This is our strength.
This is our blessing.
I invite you to read the poem again.