There is an intimate relationship between life and death. The body, our flesh, bones, and blood, are the vehicle within which we ride to our tomb; without this vital carriage life would never have been known. Yet death is the catalyst, the force, the spark that allows life to flourish. The most primal urges of desire are paved upon a road where the inevitability of death is a reality.
The body of our being is temporal. As is true with the physical bodies of all living creatures, our time is limited before the last great mystery is upon the doorstep knocking and culling the last breath that is the key to opening the gate of transformation. This universal truth stirs an equally universal yearning to promulgate flesh unto flesh unto flesh, the road of descent into eternity. Death courts the Lady of the Well of Life; He lay Her down beside the river that is the threshold where the two worlds meet.
Too many trees in a small plot in the forest make competition for resources and space for the sun to shine through a matter of life and death. The quality of life for all is lessened and it makes it difficult for new trees to find room to take root, reach for the canopy, and spread their branches. It is a balance, a gentle one that exists here. For if too few trees exist and the space between vast, then the means of reproduction, and life, becomes stagnate. So too must each of us find the balance of too much and too little in regards to all aspects of our existence. To flourish in a forest that has become too crowded a few trees must be pruned, death must come, and then there will be room for us to grow unto our potential.
Death is the blade that cuts us free as it thrusts into the chalice of potential, life is what is found at the point where the two meet.
“Lost in a thicket bare-foot upon a thorned path.”