Not Now

The doctor came; he said very clearly, "a handful of days, if nearly". I looked him squarely, and then most directly, "time is what you make it". The doctor left, he did not come back, yet he was sure and shook his head. I sat alone for a while, in a chair near the table, by the small window, the curtains drawn. No family to call, no friends to consider, no reason to worry, just time to be gone. Thoughts of yesterday, almost empty, too long put away, just passing regret. Sick inside from this or that, an empty, kind of sad. Shadows danced at the edges of things, like phantoms of the unseen, I am ready… I closed my eyes, nothing happened. I did this again, nothing happened. I opened my eyes, something happened. There on the table, it caught at my eye The book of the truth, my grandfather’s proof. It was a… Knock at the door, A call on the phone, A letter from tomorrow. It came at just the right time, not a storm to match mine, but… a whisper… “I am not done with you. Stand up and be tall, shout at the wall. There is no reason to wait” I read and I read, I learned and learned. More than both put together, and still I burned. I found my knees on the ground, and prayers on my lips. I am small, you are tall, I am sin and you are grace. Now I am ready. Peace on my face. Amen.