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
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