there will come a time to bid farewell
by Ron Whitehead
In the late late night I stand in the backyard
under the dark moon, the stars so bright.
I say "Thank you" as if I am dreaming
but I am awake enough to know where I am.
And now I hear a raging storm keening in the distance.
I feel the fire, a blown flame that melts bark and flesh,
a licking wind of razor edged thrusting stabbing knives,
that also feels like ice, a wind that freezes the water in my eyes
and cries in my beard, a wind that is ripping my clothes,
tearing my flesh, breaking my bones, trying to steal my soul.
But I summon a will I didn't know I had and scream
"NO!!" and hold on. Then I shake myself, realizing
I am in an altered twilight state and in an instant
I determine that no matter what
I will face each moment with a gentle spirit,
an open heart, and a lightning bright radiant soul.
I am so thankful for my little writing cottage,
here on the outskirts of civilization,
a roof over my head and food to eat.
I come from humble beginnings
but I've always felt rich as I could be.
A poem, a story, a song, a friendly handshake,
a welcome listening ear, the companionship of friends,
my beloved Jinn Bug I hold so dear, those are my riches.
My wealth is a treasure way beyond any financial measure.
I give what I can, grateful for this life,
today and every day, until the end.
I repeat the pledge I made in the past,
to uplift and inspire
to comfort and heal
and to awaken everyone to the fact
that we all have a non-stop river
of creative fire
flowing through us.
I pour sweet words upon you all.
I do the best I can.
Life shall prevail in this windswept place
and our friendship shall last forever.
So when the frost is on the gargoyles
and the pumpkins are painted black
and the bats dart all round us
I stare into my final night
and peer into the past
I look over the vastness
of 75 years lived
of many lives lived in this one
on the road with friends
and I whisper "Hallelujah"
then recite
the bone man dances circles
round the subterranean gloom
paints pink and blue and purple
until he fills the doom
with the smell of roses
and a pandemonium moon
I stare at faces in the trees
as stars shine through fall leaves
the wide winged owl
sweeps a foot above my head
and says "Who who who are you"
Then in the wolf light
of early morning
I pray the sun
will greet me soon
and I'll walk
along the banks of the oh great river
one more time
with my blue heelers at my side
and I'll write a final poem
and sing one more love song
before I bid farewell
and say thank you friends
for this fair and good life
now come and gone
for my dears the time
will have arrived
at long last
to bid you all
my final
sweet farewell
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