Death Take a Holiday

By Cameran Quinn   Developing Medium, Writer and Grief Coach

Oi, Death yeah, I see you creeping,
But truth be told, I know you’re weeping.
You used to scare folks with your name
But I talk to the dead… and they’re doing great, mate. No shame.

You think you’re slick in your cloak and gloom?
But I’ve got Nana chatting in my lounge room.
You knock and whisper, “This is the end,”
But I get full conversations from the other bend.

I’ve held hands, trembling, wet with grief
Then heard the departed speak with relief.
They show me signs, they crack bad jokes
And no, they don’t haunt, they just poke.

Death, you’re not the silence they dread
You’re the comma, not the full stop in what’s said.
You’re the pause before the punchline lands
While spirit dances with open hands.

I’ve heard their voices, smelled their scent,
Got messages about things only they meant.
So when you puff up with your scary show,
I roll my eyes because I know.

They visit in dreams, in songs that play,
In coins, in feathers, in words we say.
They interrupt Zoom calls, flicker lights
You really think they’re done with life?

To the grieving, I say: please don’t fear,
They’re closer now than they were last year.
And if you think your love’s grown cold
Oh honey, that bond? Forever gold.

So Death, take a holiday, book a retreat,
Go lie on a beach, put up your feet.
Because we mediums, we’ve cracked your game
We know the truth, we’ve called your name.

Life goes on it changes form,
It laughs through lightning, sings through storms.
Life goes on in Spirit’s glow,
In every “hello” you think is a “no.”

So next time someone says they’re ‘gone’,
Tell ’em: “Nah, they’re just playing along.”
Because behind the veil, the party’s wild
And they’re right beside you, proud and styled.

Death, my dear, you’ve lost your flair
Love still speaks and I’m the air.