Brian’sPoems

What I'm Speaking About is Death

I no longer know
whether I have a goal for my life,
something I want and must do,
before the shaking off
of this mortal coil.

Of course this kind of thinking
is only a tiny footnote
for a battered and exhausted faith,
as well as for a cynical mind
not accustomed to seeing all the real magic
as I blink awake each morning.

My parents must’ve despaired
their child’s gradual loss of innocence,
while mourning their own bitter transformation
through all these same stages of knowing.

Just think about that time
you last drew in a deep breath
and could not get enough air
to dispel the wisdom
pressing against your chest,
demanding an audience
with your soul.

What I’m speaking about is death
now hovering close to a loved one,
and me not wanting anything to change
except for having all the answers.