It is possible, I think, to visit with death at certain times; for me, one such time is in the early morning, when no one is awake and it is very still. The sun has just come up, it is a new day, and not even the birds have roused themselves yet. I too am not fully awake. The presence of death can be felt, though it is somewhat fuzzy, slightly remote.
Death itself is silent, unmoving. It is simply a presence at the periphery of my consciousness. Waiting. Simply waiting, wordlessly. I don't find myself frightened or jolted. Death has no depth or substance; it is all together sheer, transparent, invisible really, but still there, nonetheless. I don't believe death is present as a reminder to live any more than my shadow exists to communicate something about life or death. Death stands motionless like a redwood or cypress or rock (but without density). Ah, yes, before the day has begun, I know that you (death) are here. There is in effect no forgetting.
heading to the car
an ant carrying another