Witness

 

 

 

I want to be there when the last few molecules of oxygen

Begin their journey through her lips and esophagus,

Past her lung surface,

Because, I wonder if we die on the intake or the outtake.

I want to slide into her nose and up into her brain,

Surround myself with her spirit and follow it as it rises.

There must be an opening that happens at the top

Of her head and I want to feel it.

I want it to stay open so I can return with this new knowledge

Back into my life.

I want to rise up with her and feel the transformation–

The shooting rushing willingness to embrace:

The glad tidings being told:

I want to know what those tidings are

So I can return with them to earth and believe it is all worthwhile.

I am like a child waiting to see when this death will happen.

Peering into her rheumy eyes, perching on the edge of her bed,

I want all the other mourners to leave.

I want to be the only one there for the leaving.

I want to be the only living witness for the last hope we have.