Little remains in that frail frame
To carry on the fight.
Yet when he looks at me,
His eyes hold firm,
Shining in his wan and wrinkled face
Both clear and bright.
“You’re a good man,” he whispers,
weakly grasping my arm.
“You’re a good man too”, I reply.
But even good men stand without defense
When looking in the face
Of this approaching Harm.
“They can lessen the pain”, I assure him.
“But nature is taking its course.”
“Your damaged heart and weakened lung
Can no more fight this war.
Are you ready now to meet your death,
Accepting and without remorse?”
Death’s opposite is birth;
There is no opposite of life.
We change yet live
In ways unknown.
That stretch beyond
This pain-filled strife.
For Love stands at the start
Of all Love calls to be.
And one day we will meet that Love
Beyond this vale of tears.
It’s only in the light of Love
That finally we will see.
He slowly nods assent.
Whispering that he wants to die.
Then gaunt he turns to face the wall.
Alone with all that dying people feel
Sensing their difference from those still alive.
Is that why he hesitates now to meet my eye?
Farewell, my friend.
May angels guide you on your way.
How blessed the happy days that we have shared
How hard the times of pain.
You never can come back to me
But certain it is I’ll join you one day.
By Ron Miller
– Ron wrote this poem about his old friend Sidney on 11/22/2010, the day before Sidney passed away. This had previously been published only to Ron’s Facebook page.