#322 Which Way Will The Wind Blow? Poem by Jimmie Arrington

I wonder will it happen soon
Or when I’m old and grey?
Will I float up like a balloon
And watch earth shrink as I drift away?
Will I pause briefly to see the moon
Or hurry along without delay?

Will a rare disease slowly crawl
Or will I be taken fast?
Will a misty rain begin to fall
And a chilly breeze whoosh passed?
Will a ringing silence fill the hall,
Silence louder than the Silvertown blast?

I wonder what people will think,
I wonder what they’ll do.
Will their hearts begin to sink
And turn a pale shade of blue?
Will they carry on without a blink
Forgetting my face and my name too?

Will the clouds up in the sky
Turn dark grey and droop down low?
Will I have time to say goodbye
Or will I have to just let go?
And on the very day I die,
Which way will the wind blow?

When I reach that sacred place, will smiles rest on every face?
When I return home again, will I be gladly welcomed in?