Infinite Hope



What does one do in these bad days,

my mind that of an old woman should

I to listen to my soul? It is in old age

that we try to be kind, in younger days

we walk through life without worry and


Youth life passionate and wild, then within

time the aged returns to the days of a child.

I do not ask from my bed of death to be free,

I do ask that my God let me die in dignity.

I ask that death allow me to find the freedom

that my life denied; that I am strong when my

family is at my side. Spare me of the whisperings

of a crowded room, let there be a ceremonious

mood and not one of gloom. I have lived without

glory or fame; no one will remember my name.

No one knows when I must face my death, only

God knows when I will take my last breath.

While the world around me in silence lies, move

me outside so I can see sunshine once more before

I die.   Let it bathe me in the wonder that I was born,

across my face its beauty spread, I ask only for your

smiles of love when I am dead.   I pray for no sickroom,

no mortal strife, no turmoil for a little breath, let it be a

natural passing, no struggling with death. Let me go

composed, fearless, mind clear, willing to let my spirit

go somewhere else to wait for everyone; that to me is

so dear.


Poets Note:  “This creation of my soul would be my infinite hope when death knocks upon my door.”

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