Poetry

Oh life, why cannot you hear!
An old man’s dying plea
Are his burdens not enough
To make your heart stir?


Passion left him long ago
Prudent and wise, yes he was
Now he knows he can’t forego
This final task dancing in his mind


As the sun sets he patiently waits
For the door to open, to hope come in
A selfish prayer mumbled with faith
“Please be here, please be here”


Alas, finally the hour came
As his life bursts through the door
A familiar face radiated the place
Beautiful as the morning glow


He smiled and cried
For the last time he held her hand
With his dying breath, he whispered
“I knew you heard my plea
I shall now rest, for my life
Is now here with me.”