Death waits for him, hooded, stretched at his feet, while his children cross miles.
He is welcome, so he is kind.
Dark fingers sprawl on knees. He bides his time.
He wonders what floats through the traveler's mind.
Perhaps of his children, or things unfinished.
Love wells up around him in a chorus. Not yet an angel's song.
Death, he waits. Graceful and, above all, sincere.
He reminds his traveler of a job well done. He hums a tune in a deep baritone. Promises answers to the ultimate mystery. Arouses excitement and human curiosity.
He drifts between two worlds. A signer to a timeless future, where dreams are born for the living by their dearly departed.