Our Time
Dying is our crucifixion
Our time enduring on the cross
A juice-soaked sponge
To moisten lips and gums
Our time of thirst and terror
Of silence where night comes
And then at last, arrival
To a tiny exhalation
Of cease and expiration
Letting go of breath and pain
Freed to let go and fall
Into the all in all
Brave and beautiful, we are
To make it to the end
To place our self in deathly hands
Relinquishing the choice
Resting on the mercy
Of the cold and merciless
Praying for luck, to come to death
As a whisper in the night
Someone to take our hand
Someone to lead us home
Rising each day in memory
Our time to walk in light
And finally be known.
poem by Frank Bana
Added by Poetry Lover
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