Yesterday I overheard the phrase “about to die”

And realized every moment, that to all, it did apply.

At each and every clock strike there are those that make it through

While others see the instant when they know the phrase is true.

With scattered poker chips of life, each day we place our bet,

And cannot help but notice share of chips the house does get.

We only see the winners as we cast our gaze around

The losers have all disappeared, they’re six feet underground.

How close to death, each day we breathe, a thought so oft ignored

A twist of fate to stop the count of heartbeats we have stored.

We daily run the razor’s edge, some fall to left or right

And some remain as memories, as their souls drift from our sight.

“The gift of life”, a concept, just a speck in cosmic time

We each do with it what we will, no reasoning or rhyme

Perspective from the afterlife, a vision never shown

No final chart to mark the paths where winds of life have blown.

While some in life can only see “The Sword of Damocles”

Others use their time to find deep beauty in the trees.

Each second should be cherished as the hands of time do fly

Remembering the tenet that we’re all “about to die”.

By James Geehring

From: United States

Facebook URL: https://facebook.com/jamesgeehring