Waking

When death comes close

But keeps on walking

I want to remember 

But forget again

That time is running out

There will always be too little time

to wake up

So I imagine a better place

With an order of my own making

To hide from a world

Over which I have no control

What is not there

Seems so solid so

Enduring

If death lingers in the

Doorway
Watching

I sometimes

Take out the backpack of my spiritual

Assignments and dutifully 

Resume my homework

Seconds tick by

Like wise men bringing gifts

Each brighter than the last

A puzzle piece

Of glory

Pinned to its chest.

I am relieved

And reminded that 

I have little time to wake

Up

Have little time to

Find
Out
Who I really am

To plumb how dislikes

Determine my days

To shine a light on the

Ephemera

That keep me from

The white hot wire

Of knowing

With the comfort 

Of my imagined worlds

Stripped away

 

I wake slowly

So that when death comes

Knocking

he will be as welcome as

The rest.