Dear Death

Imagining I am at your Door

the Door

of Death ~

for I believe our lives are fleeting

blips on a giant screen

covering

vast landscapes  of time ~

Yet, back to Dear Death (may I call you Dear Death?)

Now, I know you are the Great Equalizer,

since no one person can escape you.

I wonder, though, are you ever curious as to why we lack the fortitude to approach you?

Do you wish someone  would talk with you

without feeling an all-encompassing dread?

Do you have a support system?

A family?

Do you ever get lonely?

Do you have a pet?

Enough small talk! Here I go ~

My burning question is:

How do I finish the following sentence

while at your Dear Death Door?

“I wish I had . . .”

What . . . What? What! Done what? Okay . . .

I wish I had. . .

Climbed more mountains

alone

in silence

listening to the wind voices;

Scaled more trees

alone

in silence

listening to the branches swaying;

Stayed

more in the moment

alone

and in silence

and listening to hearts beating.

I wish I had held

more loved ones

alone

in silence and

listening;

I really, really wish I had taught

“How to be Alone in Silence”

to all my human loves;

And waged more peace

as a younger version of Fawn,

all while listening and

walking hand in hand

with silence

and love

and listening to all.

Alone.

Because,

after all,

we are truly alone when we finally meet you, Dear Death.

In closing

I want to tell you

it’s been comforting and meaningful

to have this chat with you.

I thank you for your

patience and understanding.

Please accept my apology that humans

usually don’t visit with you before they

absolutely have no choice.

This, I believe, is fear-based

and not a reflection on your character.

Goodbye Dear Death ~

I will come visit again and

perhaps we shall have tea.

Waging peace for our hearts, and yours,

Fawn

April 5, 2017 Meldrum Poetry Workshop  Keystone Heights Florida
Prompt: Shel Silverstein’s “It’s Dark In Here”
Photography by Erin Liberty Dunn, Age 6