Overheard

Overheard

He came in crying, “Doctor, I’m dying!”

Then he said, “Doctor, I’m dead.”

All night and all day

He goes on this way

While I lay beside him

And quietly pray:

“Please, God, send someone to assure him

And while you’re around, remind me

The final reward we’re both headed toward

Is bound to be peaceful and joyful and free…

Free of the dread of being in beds…

Free once we’re dead and out of our heads.

It won’t be so lonely and it’s not the only

Time we’ve crossed over from here

Please help him let go and let us both know

There really is nothing to fear.”

It’s gone on a week, yet I hear him speak!

Now calling, “Ma-ma! Help me!”

In more muffled tones he suffers and moans.

While I lie and wonder which loved-ones I’ll see.

So why do I pay to be far away

From here, where I stay, lay and pray?

I’ll answer in words I just overheard,

“Please help me, I’m dying.” Okay?

March 26, 2011 David Brunoehler

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