Death is an Open Window

Death is an Open Window

Katelyn Jane Dixon

Once, near the end 
My grandfather opened his eyes and breathed
These words into the vacant mouth of death: 

“It’s a beautiful day.” 

And I wondered which day he meant: 

The day which found me weeping by his bed,
Even as the sun glinted off the mountaintops 
Surrounding our snow-swept valley 

Or that distant, unending Day 
Its reflection glimpsed through the thin-veiled window
By one drew near. 

All I know is this: 

For a moment, something of eternity shimmered
Through the half-shut curtains of his hospital room, shining
With a faith truer than sight, deeper than words. 

“It’s a beautiful day” he said, for the last time.

And so it was. 
And so it is.
And so it shall be. 

---

Katelyn Jane Dixon
Poet & Writer

Photography by Priscilla Du Preez