Herinneren is een vorm van ontmoeten…

Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality

We slowly drove, he knew no haste, and I had put away my labor and my leisure too, for his civility

We passed the school, where children strove at recess, in the ring; we passed the fields of gazing grain, we passed the setting sun

Or rather, he passed us; the dews grew quivering and chill, for only gossamer my gown, my tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed a swelling of the ground; the roof was scarcely visible, the cornice but a mound.

Since then ‘tis centuries and yet each feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses’ heads were toward eternity.

(Emily Dickinson)