RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Near Death - Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Polite, quiet, respectful,
fully aware of God's presence in the room.
Prayerful, hoping against all hope,
yet knowing the end is near.
Wanting to go back in time and recreate the steps that have
led to this moment, my mind knowing it cannot be done.
Where has the past gone?
It seems to have taken only a moment to disappear in a
hazy mist - a fog.
What has become of the child just beginning to grow and
learn of life?
Where are the footprints up til now?
Have they also been washed away with tides of aging life?
Memories gray and fading, swimming at times in confusion
before jaundiced eyes - once they were colored rainbow -
now they lie dying in the black cradle of cancer, being
plied full of pain medicine, disorganizing what is left.
Sleeping in the arms of near-death, striving to breathe
for a few minutes of uninterrupted rest.
Moaning, wracked with pain at times, wanting to be held
like a child, hoping to wake up from this dreadful dream.
Unsolicited thoughts prey upon the inner mind, stripping
away peace slowly, breaking up the harmony so longed for
through the agony.
Losing strength, barely able to turn your head, trying
desperately to hold on to some small form of independence,
knowing in your heart it will soon be over.
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