The Horizon

The Horizon

From A 5th Portion of Chicken Soup for the Soul

The Horizon

Lfie is eternal, and love is immortal,
and death is only a horizon;
and a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight.

Rossiter Worthington Raymond

I am standing upon the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud on the horizon, just where the sea and the sky come to mingle with one another.

Then someone at my side says: “There, she is gone.”

“Gone where?”

Gone from my sight. That is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side,

and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone at my side says,

“There, she is gone,” there are other eyes watching her coming,

and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:

“Here she comes!”

And that is dying.

Anonymous

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