What does one do during the bad days,
my mind that of an old woman, I would
clear my soul if I could; it is in old age
that we try to be kind. In younger days,
we walk through life without worry and
blind.
Youth to old age, life passionate and wild,
yet within time the aged returns to the
days of a child. I do not ask from my bed
of death to be free, I do ask that my God
let me die in dignity.
I ask that death allow me to find the
freedom that my life denied; that I am
strong when my family is at my side.
Spare me of the whisperings of a crowded
room, that there be ceremonious air and
not one of gloom.
I have lived without glory or fame; no one
will remember my name; no one knows
when I am bound for death, only God knows
when I will take my last breath.
While the world around me in silence lies,
move me outside so I can see sunshine once
more before I die. Let it bathe me in the
wonder that I was born, across my face its
beauty spread, like the sun I ask only for
your smiles of love when I am dead.
I pray for no sickroom, no mortal strife, no
turmoil for a little breath, let it be a natural
passing, no struggling with death. Let me go
composed, fearless, mind clear, willing to let
my spirit go somewhere else to wait for
everyone that to me is so dear.
****
2013.annjohnsonmurphree
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