A friend sent me the last poem that this person wrote before he suffered a brain aneurysm. Wonderful, compelling words from a life lived well:
wind sings through the pine as
bird song echoes across the field
together a halleluia chorus of
praise for the Father/Son of Creation
there is another song deep within
the heart of everyman, appearing
at first as a humming low
without definition almost silent
Yet it beckons with rhythm and
harmony that draws him to
the source of all song -- the
beat and rhythm of the soul
Much of life is accompanied by
this quiet time keeping us in
places and pace for living but
then comes a time
that this quiet song beats louder
bolder noisier unrelenting
demanding to be heard and embraced
let out, marched to and lived
It is the halleluia chorus of
living in freedom, beauty,
peace and harmony in praise
for the Father/Son Creator