The Flame Is Still Burning

Death isn't what you think it is, At least not when you sit with Death Death I know. I know because once I was in the same room with Death Death isn't horrific, she, he is not a monster, it was not frightening when I met Death Death claimed my father when I wasn't there  but she, he waited for me, the night I met Death Death took the warm breeze from my father's chest left him cold to the touch I was there next to Death Death stole my father's voice left him quiet among the roar of silent tears. I felt the moisture in the room next to Death Death left with no more then what filled shallow pockets graciously bowed on the way out, so I bowed to Death Death I knew walked out empty handed as he does my father's life still burning in memories, so I bowed to Death my father's body was dead in that hospital bed  but I couldn't help kiss warm my father's flesh but I couldn't help speaking to him "I love you Dad" three years passed since that night my father is still alive in memories bright he accomplished so much, touched so many never a time when I needed my Dad never once was he not there to help how could you be sad for a man like that he lives in my heart sheltered there even when I am long gone he will live preserved by my children and then theirs how could you feel sad for a man like that Always stood a giant in the largest of crowds He was loved and admired, he never died He was just needed somewhere else Death isn't always what you think. he, she came and left light as a feather I barely felt the presence of Death Death?  I've met him, when I meet her again there will be no fear  Death!  It isn't always what you think it is. When I met Death it was gentle as a lamb. Maurice Yvonne 09/23/2014 Contest: The Poet III Sponsor: Gautami Phookan