When I come to the end of my journey, and they roll me out on that cold, hard, gurney,
Just remember, I’m not there, for Jesus met me in the air.
He gave me a robe of white to wear.
But then I saw a book open to the letter P and Jesus said, come look and see.
I wasn’t worried because I believe that Jesus Christ died for me.
But oh no to my surprise, I couldn’t find my name inside.
He laughed, and then he said to me, that’s not the book of Life you see, it’s the book of those who’ve rejected me.
Now I’m not allowed to tell you who, and no, we don’t come back as ghosts to warn you.
But time is short, so get it right, I hope it’s not your time tonight!
Message:
God gave us a free will to choose
See you in paradise!
I sent my verse into a flying hearse,
waved goodbye, with scented roses; forgot
her entirely; there was no doc or nurse
that could resurrect; she died a mugshot.
She was vile, beyond approach, not worthy.
Her cruel nuances and fingernail drag
across chalkboard, appalling; her gurney
rolled into the dusk; wearing a toe tag.
Hearse accompanied by buzzards, fat ones.
Hissing-lightning tires screeched on bleakest clouds.
Procession of words, joyful sunshine shuns.
Shovelfuls of primordial ooze, shrouds.
I sent my verse into a flying hearse,
waved goodbye, with scented roses; forgot
§ her entirely §
While praying peace upon this day
some pause to wonder, “Does it pay
to seek God’s counsel? Skies go gray.
Such focus - short, infernal
forgets a faith, eternal.
When TV lauds man's rage and smut,
it blocks the truth and leaves it shut.
We question – why and how and what
of thoughts so mal-adjusted
they leave us well-combusted.
Recalling joy and quests unknown,
I realize it’s God alone
who rules this realm from heaven’s throne.
Deficiency defraying,
I settle in to praying.
It’s not the length of time I spend
nor any sweat which I extend;
it’s fellowship which wants no end.
Communion needs no journey
when doubts have found death’s gurney.
When times are weary, careworn, bleak
Christ’s swift forgiveness stirs the meek.
I take my Bible, let God speak.
Sweet cadence, trust’s own rhythm
outflows in concord with Him.
"For from Him, through Him, to Him - life."
Falun Dafa Hao! Falun Dafa Hao!
Echoed through the hospital halls
A woman’s voice in clear distress
Her haunting conviction was professed
The guard on duty turned to see
The young teacher he abused previously
The callous surgeons stood around
The gurney where her body was found
Her organs were extracted one by one
While fully aware, until the last cut was done
Suddenly the guard was sick with dismay
Witnessing the murder with horrific display
Doctors turned butchers, a gruesome scene
Ccp’s State organ-harvesting a nefarious scheme
Fund the military, and eradicate Falun Gong
The genocide of millions. 26 years long
Falun Dafa Practitioners are clarifying the facts
Exposing the truth of the ccp’s sinful acts
The halls of hell can hide no more
Falun Dafa Hao echoes like a lion’s roar!
Perhaps, I shouldn't have learned to play the sax.
Perhaps, I shouldn't have started that food fight in the cafeteria back in junior high.
Perhaps, I shoulda said yes to Tanya back in 5 th grade.
Perhaps, I should've asked for a raise last year being my 3rd year in the company.
Perhaps, cauliflower would've been a better pick over broccoli tonight.
Perhaps, my kids are better off after the divorce.
Perhaps, this swelling in my right toe will go away on its own.
Perhaps, things aren't so bad after all.
Perhaps, my patience with myself is improving.
Perhaps, temperance is simply not in my nature.
Perhaps, God will forgive me in the end.
Perhaps, there is no God.
Perhaps, our concern should simply be the here and now.
Perhaps, there is not real past or future.
Perhaps, it's all in the journey.
As my old man said: "the journey till the gurney."
Perhaps, my dad never said that.
Perhaps, it's all just for a poem named
"Perhaps..."
Relighting my spark,
I'm igniting the dark,
Embarking on a journey,
That could end in a gurney,
Turning the key,
So you can see me,
Eternity set free,
Lighting up the world around me,
Bound by gravity,
A soul stuck in a cavity,
Deep beneath layers of being,
The dark is fleeing,
Releasing it's hold,
The lessons are gold,
To behold the power,
Of this blooming flower,
Opens up to devour your attention,
It's illuminating ascension,
Through my best intentions,
An invention so pure,
You'll remember who you were.
Uninvited death slowly entered during her illness
Engulfing her old, frail body
Slowly and higher came the stillness
Which at any time can affect anybody
Night's embrace grows colder with each breath,
While the clouds drift on a somber quest,
Even time pauses at the doorstep of death,
Holding her moments in an eternal rest.
I knew I had died when the moon got still
I could see an old body upon the gurney
Couldn’t tell it was mine, realization seemed unreal
Just then I knew I’d be on a long journey
Death had come slowly, over weeks of illness
That had gripped the old, frail body
Slowly and higher came the stillness
Which can affect anybody
In an instant angelic beings appeared
Bearing the saved soul away
Wrapped in their arms with great cheer
Willing to see my Savor that day
Now the moon whispers secrets to the fading stars,
As shadows dance across the silent floor,
A tree weeps its leaves like dying memoirs,
Its branches sighing evermore.
To those who bled for others,
on the battlefield, in birth,
in rescue,
on a gurney to save lives.
Forevermore in gratitude sing
people of the teeming earth.
The only One who bled for
all humanity-
beauteous Christ reigning always,
His glorious sacrifice-
blesses those who bled for others,
and those who will one day. ~
This Christmas, I don’t want snow.
I want to forget what happened a year ago.
I still had that old car.
I was going to travel far.
Until the crash came around.
I can still hear that sound.
This Christmas, I would like to have the confidence.
To drive my blue car further than that fence.
But snow has gathered on my windshield.
And I’m still cold.
Everything is buried.
I remember being carried.
The ambulance, the cries.
Feeling the gurney rise.
This Christmas, this Christmas, this Christmas…
A mess…
Snow, snow, and snow.
I know, I know, I know.
This Christmas, I got dice for my rear view mirror.
Fluffy dice- nothing to fear.
I miss driving past that fence.
It doesn't make sense.
The accident wasn’t my fault to this day.
Everyone is alive, that’s what they say.
This Christmas, my dad brought home a tree.
We took it off the car, and cut it free…
Cutting me free, prying the door.
I don’t want to leave the house anymore.
the older lady asked for help
she requested a gurney for her dog
two veterinary assistants went out
with a gurney
this dog must have weighed three hundred pounds
his body and head were enormous
he was strapped down in five places
wearing a muzzle
I was thinking, “Brutus, Goliath, or Samson”.
What is his name? The receptionist asked the older lady.
“Flower,” she replied.
In the hush after the storm's refrain,
Butterflies emerge softly once again
Their wings a painted canvas of pure gold
Fluttering gently, kissing blossoms untold
Droplets of rain still cling to the air,
Glistening like diamonds upon flowers fair
The lightning's flash, the thunder's roar,
Now replaced by a tranquil rapport.
Spring whispers secrets to the earth,
Giving the butterflies a new birth,
A symphony of colors takes flight,
Dancing in the sun's golden light.
So let us cherish this magical scene,
Where nature's beauty is evergreen,
Butterflies soaring, free to roam,
A world that no longer feels like my home
I know 'pon this earth I'm just passing through
I am on the precipice, but not blue
Ahead the city made by God's strong hand
Reach forth take hand of Jesus, not man
Too close to the scary edge, do not fear
Too near the precipice, hang on my dear
When you reach the end of life's journey
Welcome the men wheeling in the gurney
Several weeks in to this healing journey.
Grateful of course, there was no gurney..
Now waiting for these bones to knit.
It's challenging for me to quietly sit.
Wheeling around my condo floors,
the metal stripping's are loose once more.
My wheel chair clunks on the foyer tiles.
Some days my arms feel they've walked several miles..
I amble to my car with my walking stick, to run a few
errands lickity split.
I'm grateful for drive thru's, those places one
can just pull up to: drive thru pharmacy to pick up my meds,
drive thru star bucks to clear my head, of course the fast
food options too. May God bless the drive thru!!
Still striving hard not to succumb to my some days
emotional pendulum..
Five weeks down, five more to go, the healing process is
painfully slow.
From all walks of life,
near and far,
you lie on a gurney,
your own sustenance flowing out of you,
givers of the red.
Quiet heroes take the iron supplements,
so you can give again and again.
for the injured, the soldiers,
the mothers giving birth,
those with cancer,
who depend on your
generosity.
You repeat the feat
because you're noble,
whole blood, platelets.
An honoring refrain-
givers of the red,
saluting you-
givers of the red. ~
Sounds of medical monitoring machines
Echo in the brain of a comatose marine
Lying on a gurney hospital's bed
Least of all, nothing is said
Those present bow their heads
Praying his not already dead
Eye's flutter, the patient awakes,
from their comatose state
Ironically,
the marine didn't pass through heaven's gate
Risking life and limb then joining us again
The family all gathered to consort
as the doctors turned off all life supports.
They moistened her lips with a lollipop.
Shortly after her breathing stopped.
She looked at peace, her eyes fixed far away,
not a trace of pain on her face that day..
She lingered for a farewell kiss,
was so well loved, would be sorely missed.
Hovering above her vessel so worn, aware
of their wails as they deeply mourned.
The room now empty, absolutely stark,
her lifeless body alone in the dark..
She sensed a bright light and embraced
her journey as the hospital staff
placed her body on the gurney..
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