I need to pretend that I'm dying,
and I don't have much time left to live,
'cause if I don't do what I came here for,
I may miss this one chance that I have.
I've seen my friends go in a heartbeat,
their life's purpose still left undone.
Dear God, I don't want that to happen to me!
Help me to sing my own song.
Sometimes I can act like it's nothing,
pretending I never will die.
I want to believe that I'll live here forever--
Why do I insist on this lie?
I know that I've got to keep writing--
it's the gift that my heart longs to give,
and if I have spent my life writing
I won't care so much how long I'll live.
The way that I want to be feeling
when Death comes to take me away
is satisfied that I've finished my work,
that I've said all that I have to say.
I keep getting sidetracked by something--
when I look at it square in the eye
I see it's fear that I'm not good enough
to make a great poem of life.
You know that I want to write deeply
from the spirit of love here inside.
How can I sing when I bury my own
spirit behind fear and pride?
I know that great love and great writing
can flow from You through my heart--
I open it wide, please help me right now
To focus my life and my art.
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 11:51 PM UTC
I need to pretend that I'm dying,
and I don't have much time left to live,
'cause if I don't do what I came here for,
I may miss this one chance that I have.
I've seen my friends go in a heartbeat,
their life's purpose still left undone.
Dear God, I don't want that to happen to me!
Help me to sing my own song.
Sometimes I can act like it's nothing,
pretending I never will die.
I want to believe that I'll live here forever--
Why do I insist on this lie?
I know that I've got to keep writing--
it's the gift that my heart longs to give,
and if I have spent my life writing
I won't care so much how long I'll live.
The way that I want to be feeling
when Death comes to take me away
is satisfied that I've finished my work,
that I've said all that I have to say.
I keep getting sidetracked by something--
when I look at it square in the eye
I see it's fear that I'm not good enough
to make a great poem of life.
You know that I want to write deeply
from the spirit of love here inside.
How can I sing when I bury my own
spirit behind fear and pride?
I know that great love and great writing
can flow from You through my heart--
I open it wide, please help me right now
To focus my life and my art.
Written 1998.
Copyright 2011, by Michael S. Simpson. All rights reserved.
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