A Prayer At 48

It's not death I am afraid of, it's the dying, not loss of life, but loss of life with them. I strain to see, with trembling faith, peering as thru a dusty porthole the heaven promised by you -- untouched forevermore by this enemy; pain, sadness, and loss. So I plead, let each suffering moment be like stinging fertilizer, like consuming wildfire, like bitter remedy. Yes! Let it be as such things, the fruit of which is newness of life! Abundant life. And remind me often, I go where you have already been, and where you travel yet again... with me.