Tree of Life
But thou, O Beauty, art a pledge
That there is purpose in thy mould;
That yet beyond the horizon's edge
A Summerland that grows not old
Nor yields to Winter's dread embrace
It's heritage of green and gold
And thou shalt grow from grace to grace
Immortal in thy native place.


Author Unknown
Entering the
Summerland
Jessee's Memorial
Jesse
6/18/01
greyCloak Memorial
Greycloak
4/23/98
In Loving Memory of Jackie Link
Jackie
5/15/98
In Loving Memory of Wolfman Link
Wolfman aka Wally
9/22/94
rainbow bar

Death is but a door which opens into new and more perfect existence. It is a Triumphal Arch through which man's immortal spirit passes at the moment of leaving the outer world to depart for a higher, a sublime, and a more magnificent country. And there is really nothing more painful or repulsive in the natural process of dying (that which is not induced by disease or accident) than there is in passing into a quiet, pleasant, and dreamless slumber. The truthfulness of this proposition is remarkably illustrated and confirmed by the following observations and investigation into the physiological and psychological phenomena of death; which my spirit was qualified to make upon the person of a diseased individual at the moment of physical dissolution.

The Philosphy of Death by Andrew Jackson Davis. From The Great Harmonia, published 1853.
rainbow bar
Starshyne updated last 7/29/2002