At Death Door I Wonder Poem by James Tipp

How far is God from me or I from him?
I have time to think on this bed of pain,
Laying listening, wondering about my life
Thinking about my death and of those I love.
There is so much I have never said,
So much I have never thought I needed to say,
Yet somehow I need to know that I am loved.
Need them to know that they have been the centre
The cause and affect of all that I wanted from life.
Everything seems like only yesterday
I was always too busy to think before this, and now!
I have too little time to work it all out.
Is God someone who strikes bargains?
Or someone whose understanding of me
Cannot be bargained with, no secret cards to play.
Just what is the meaning of mercy and grace?
Perhaps it's true, all we can ever do is trust,
No matter where or when, whether we have time to think.
Yet even now on this bed of pain.
I understand love, for I have given it,
Now I must receive it.