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Poem

How was I to know a lightning bolt
would zig-zag into me? My body lies there on the ground,
a nurse, doing CPR.
Shocked voices. All eyes focused on the victim.
	
While over the way, I stand. Separate. Watching. 
I move to tap a friend’s shoulder, saying,  that’s me. But my hand
goes straight through. Spooked. Why doesn’t he know I’m here?
Floating upstairs, the foggy image of my legs, and physical self, 
shimmer and disappear. 

I find my wife on the other side of a wall. She’s reading,
to our youngest grandson. Bluish light shines around me,
clear and bright. But neither look up. 
Suffused with pure love and energy, I’m attached
to everything, movement unrestricted. 

Jolted back into my body, it’s agony. Sirens scream. Police . 
Ambulance. Lights flash, white, red and blue.
Morphine. Sleep. Slow recovery.
But I’m not the same person. As a child, 

I couldn’t stand classical music it. Hated the piano.
Now I ‘m driven to learn. That’s why I came back.
Taught myself to read music, plunked out tunes. 

Still, destiny stalked the Concert Stage.
Music pours into me from dreams. Arriving so fast 
I struggle to write it down.
I play night and day on an old instrument, 
gifted my way. 

A wide repertoire draws my concert fans.
People cry, have visions.
Moved by the frequency of the music. 
While I shiver to think that, alive or 
dead, there’s only a thread between.

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