WHY I WRITE A POEM A DAY

Today is the day
he has chosen
to say goodbye.

His family gathered round
with all their strength
to help lift
his suffering.

Today is not a day
for war anymore,
for a body at battle,
for cancer
or cocktails.

Today is a day for letting go,
and as I light a candle for him,
my wish is that it is also a day
for letting in.

That as he looks around
at the wet green of the trees,
the poke of red on a word on a wall,
his wife’s familiar brown eyes,

it won’t be with desperation,
like gathering photos
in a fire,
but with gratitude,
and just as we were taught in school,
when all those colours
bow their heads together,
they will beam for him
as one beautiful
white light
showing him
the way.