"Knock, knock. It's me." - Bahamas AI Art
©A. Derek Catalano
When Death Comes Knocking
When Death comes knocking, a whisper in the night,
No one knows the hour, nor the fading of the light.
No calendared appointment, no forecast in the air,
Just a sudden, silent presence, a chilling, cold despair.
It may be in the dawn, with the dew still on the rose,
Or in the fading twilight, as the tired day does close.
Perhaps a gentle stirring, a breath held for too long,
Or a thunderous crescendo, where everything goes wrong.
Will you be ready, for that inevitable call?
Have you lived with purpose, given your heart and all?
Did you speak the words unsaid, embrace the ones you knew?
Forgive the hurts inflicted, and see your journey through?
Will your spirit find its solace, your conscience be at peace?
Or will a lifetime's regrets, refuse their grim release?
For readiness isn't riches, nor power, nor grand fame,
But a soul aligned with truth, an unextinguished flame.
Will you be prepared, for the journey to the vast unknown?
Have you shed the earthly shackles, the seeds of greed have sown?
Are your affairs in order, your worldly tasks complete?
Or will a tangled legacy, leave bitter, tangled feet?
Preparedness is not panic, nor frantic, hurried plea,
But a calm acceptance of what is, and what will surely be.
It's untying every tether, that binds you to this sphere,
And facing the great silence, without a shadow of fear.
