At the Point of Departure
A wall holds a bright white clock,
Five minutes tick to breach the span.
Time is relative only to breathing,
While immortality strives to live.
I rise from the depths of pain,
In fragrant mist of triumph.
The room unfolds behind me,
Where flesh obliges morbid death.
In parting, I reap one last glance,
To those that begrudge my leaving.
I bend to wipe their cheeks from tears,
As their souls churn in saddened anguish.
My spirit trembles between sorrow and joy,
Being pulled by love from earth and heaven.
Then, the time is marked upon the doctor’s chart,
Releasing me to my glorious eternal departure.
Copyright © Virginia Mitchell | Year Posted 2012
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