I found myself this morning standing
in meditation at the door of my own death.
It was open. I stood on the very threshold,
dazzled. Behind me, everything was darkness.
Before me, light. This was strange, I thought.
I would have expected it otherwise, but no:
everything I knew in life was darkness.
It was the unknown that was light.
To step forward, into it, I must first
say my goodbyes to everything
with which I am familiar: to the objects
that surround me, to my unfinished work,
those many poems I have not yet written,
to those I love. To those I have not known
and yet have seen their faces every day.
To those to whom I still feel animosity
or hatred in my heart. I must let them go:
for there will be no opportunity to return.
I did not choose this morning to step forward,
into that light. I chose instead to stand
in quiet contemplation of what lies before,
what lies behind. A moment of silent ecstasy,
and peace. Knowing still that, when it comes,
in reality, in my life, the moment of my death
will not be of my choosing. Still, one way
or another, it will come. I will stand there,
on that threshold, and will take that step,
despite myself. Forward. Into the light.
