Prepare For Death Poem by Barry Middleton

with one last chance to be alive
how do I ready myself for death

I quietly watch the pulse of wind
and feel the rush of air like breath

my window rattle is a drum
the sound is like a beating heart

the visions that surround me here
will soon appear to play their part

the tossing trees in ecstasy
are greeted by a moonless night

they cannot see they cannot feel
they do not curse the dying light

to touch each moment passing by
can only help the soul break free

I touch and taste and know the wind
that's all that I may clearly see