Death Keeps Knocking At The Door Poem by john tiong chunghoo

death keeps knocking at the door
it is faith that helps me fend it off
i grasp the sunshine with frail fingers
the sun in the tail of a tropical dusk
the clouds float between the light
it plays hide and seek in a last game

rain breaks away at the other range
in the arc of a multi hued hope
another conflagration of life flutters by
thousands and thousands of bats dance
in successive wave of rapture over the sky
now flared in so many colours
scarlet, amber, blue and white
name me tchaikosky, name me brahms,
name me mozart, name me strauss

a black solitude dilutes over the heaven
as they break free from the tangle of
deep damp caves one family after the other

there is a wistful screech of an eagle
returning among the hills
it echoes the last swirl of wine
spouting short and crisp from
a bottle of endearment meeting
face to face with the facts of life