My presence gave him space to be alone
He concentrated on the world I could not see
Dying is an art if we’re not stones

We may marry but we do not own
Every spirit must feel it is free
My presence gave him space to be alone

At the end God makes his own Self known
His Word hangs like a Light upon a tree
Dying is an art if we’re not stones

I sat there in silence,overthrown
There is no need for money nor a fee
My presence gave him space to be alone

And as for the hereafter, that’s unknown
As is the port when ships cross a new sea
Dying is an art if we’re not stones

No need to pray or make a heartfelt plea
Sitting by his side,I let him be
My presence gave him space to be alone
Dying is for humans, not for stones