MY FRIEND

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My friend was a good, kind man

who grew in wisdom which he shared

with those he loved til the end.
He had flaws too, like we all do. 

He was human

Though he often seemed divine.

I sat by his side as he lay

dormant in final slumber,

while my thoughts clashed 

with the silence the dying create.

Death has such power

to stir emotions I prefer to bury.

It haunted me with its black cloak of fear,

it's scythe that will rip me from this earth.

Yet, I am grateful to thoughts of death.

The fear it projects can be a stimulant for living.

Fully living, I can face my fears.

Confronting death, I embrace life.

Crying, I said goodbye to my dying friend

who, arriving at the end of all his paths,

now begins to rest.

I hope he heard my words of loving support

during his graceful passage.  

I know he'd understand my selfish thoughts 

about my own life
and its inevitable departure.

(My husband's uncle passed away yesterday.  He was an ordinary man, who gave extraordinary love.  We will miss him.)

(For Poets United.)