As the end neared his old mind was stirred
Was active as a river in full spate
Like the visions, intentions, he had learned
Women whisper fearing to be heard
In married love, how best to navigate?
On the way to peace his hand was bare
Respect and truth, like wisdom, must be earned
We come to understand,is it too late
To bring perception when with hate we burn?
In my kitchen stood a little bird
The robin he had fed from breakfast plates
To the very end, alert and brave
As he faded I began to mourn
Seeing him turn pale, inviolate
I held his hand while tears clumped like a storm
How do we dare to find that holy gate?
The truth known to the heart makes no mistake
On the path to death, our minds combined
In the visions, intentions, we had shared
