A tender touch,
A quiet kiss.
Life’s fingers
Brush
Against me.
I can not see her,
Nor feel her.
Yet her whims dictate my life.

A breathy breeze,
A storming sun.
Life surrounds,
But it’s just begun.
A dreary day,
A wild night.
Life endures.

And then.
And then a cold wind blows,
A chill creeps silently
In the night.

Death has come.
Life’s final task:
To die,
And in dying,
To live.
We are who our actions say we are,
And Death—
Death says that we are equal.