Deathly Questions Poem by Andy Brookes

Waking form the dream of life I dreamt I was dead
there was Death not so terrible he was a child dressed in white
He held my hand and said gently
I am your guide he said so we walked a while down white walled echoing paths
and then Death said why do men fear me?
I could not answer all I could feel was his rough warm hand in mine.

he was a fair youth then golden in his prime dressed in blue velvet finery
I felt a tear trickle down my cheek not of grief nor I think happiness maybe it was relief

Death ask me do you fear me? he was old and grizzled now but grandfatherly
I could not answer but looked him in the eye without flinching
ah said death I see the answer in your eye and he smiled his toothless smile
will I remember this dream? I ask Death but I was awake and he had gone.
and he was but a whisker of a memory.