Death

You sit there and mock me

always in the shadows

lurking

hiding

smirking.

Waiting for the chance

to jump out

and hit me again.

Hemming me in

on all sides.

Pushing me down again and again

until I feel like I'm near drowning

gasping for breath.

Over and over

relentlessly

laughing at me

certain you've won.

-

And yet-

-

where is your sting?

-

Winking,

menacing,

goading,

you entice.

Grief resumes,

but you forget

-

you've lost

-

you cannot win

-

your only power

is

in delaying the reunion.

-

You cannot deny it, thwart it, eliminate it, block it, or circumvent it.

-

So now I laugh,

(a sometimes bitter)

often bittersweet laugh.

But a laugh all the same.

-

For my Father defeated you long ago.

All you can do now

-

is spur me on.

-
To love more,

squeeze harder,

kiss more passionately,

bless more abundantly,

praise more loudly,

giggle more wildly,

tease affectionately,

tickle longer.

-

And when you emerge,

as you surely will,

and

strike again,

I will have no regrets.

-

-

-
My Father and I will have the last laugh.

Copyright JLohr, 2008