By Marsha Huss
In remembrance of Bessie Edwards
I lay in this old body, in my hospital bed, helpless,
yet comforted by everyone who visits.
They talk and smile, and tell me they hope I'll get well soon.
They know my time will come soon.
But, there is no talk of death here.
It would sadden them,
so I don't speak of it either.
It is my gift to them.
As they visit, I know that they are silently saying goodbye.
And as each one comes,
the memories come flashing back into my mind.
It is their gift to me.
If I could, I would explain
the only pain I have is in this tired old body
the vessel of my existence in this world.
I long to be free of it.
The voices call to me, familiar and comforting,
Each day a bit louder than before.
I know that I'm in my own house, it's where I need to be.
It's almost time.
They all come, and sing, and pray,
I can hardly hear them over the voices.
"Come to us" they say, "Be free and find peace".
I feel myself reach out, but my body doesn't move.
And, then, I am looking down upon myself.
I feel warm, and free, like a child.
I want to say to them "Don't be sad. Rejoice in what we have had,
And in what is to come. I have found a peace like no other".
But, they can only hear with their hearts.
For the heart is the doorway to their soul,
and with their soul they will see me again someday.
I will call to them, a little louder each day........