Death will visit me in the night,
and on my dream bed will alight,
yes, on my chest Death will sit,
at most you’ll hear a coughing fit.
I’ll awaken and feel the weight,
and know this is the appointed date
my flagging life must now be furled
and shot off to some distant world.
It will happen in my deepest sleep
between two dreams, just as I leap
from one, as if from peak to peak,
up to the greener peace I seek.
In full free fall, I’ll tumble down
(childhood fears explain my frown),
and reach for shining shafts of light
(your faces glowing}, then take flight.
This looks to be an amazing trip
at speeds well past the legal clip.
There’s no return this time round,
through star-field silence I will bound,
perhaps to find a mural to paint
on celestial walls with starlight faint,
or explore the history of stars,
or paddle a kayak close to Mars.
To all those whom I’ve l left behind,
this advice: let your grief unwind,
then choose to live, and live full blast,
our earthly journey speeds by too fast.
December 1, 2001