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Poem

Realization

Fear is cancer’s preservative,
As Embalming fluid to the living.
And you, oh accuser,
Are fear’s embalming salesman.
You are a snake,
Paradox bound.
Wrapped around the rod that binds you,
Depraved.
Attempting to free itself from its own fault.
Deceiving and deluding all who come near,
Nothing but a false symbol of repose.
Biding its time until the sirens sound.


Grace

I don’t need to focus on death,
Studying it and its slow progression.
Its course is clear already,
But when death is circling close.
That is when redemption finally feels closer,
That’s when Jesus’s glory steps in.
It is a mighty rushing wind,
 Quick and frightening
Ever so fierce to eradicate,
The sickness of chains ever going.
I want to be watching for that glory,
To set my boy free from this purgatory.



Resolution

So here we are,
The air is emptier without his laugh.
But yet our hearts are full,
Though, with a different drink.
Now this ride that I was on is now silent,
So we sit here in this new silence.
And long for the music to start again,
And for the disc to spin again.
Even if it means going round and round for years,
At least I would be moving.
And he would be laughing in heaven,
But in this space.
His silence is because he is drawing his breathe,
And now I know love.
Empty and full, all in one moment.

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