I think I am ready now.
Ready to go when I must go.
      Not that I am seeking it.
      Nor do I wish it to be soon.
I'm ready, though, very ready.

Spirits come and go. They fashion
    themselves into relationships.
Relationships that are
never more than temporary.
Hands holding hands,
    letting go, moving on.

I will move on as well.

Time is up to God, not me.
      If He calls me, I'll go.

So it is a circle thing,
      birth to the grave.
A slowly eroding body
      with a living soul.

I'm ready to meet death.
Perhaps not to welcome it,
      rather, resigned to
        cease to be.

At some point
      in the future,
        think of me.
Maybe I'll be the
      tiny voice inside
        comforting you?