I dared to dream of heaven, as if it was
a place I might arrive. Celestial Kingdom
of a merciful God, where I could live
without the illness in the body. Turned
thoughts to friends and family gone
before me, possibly waiting to welcome
me there? Of course, there are also the
friends and family not yet dead. They
too might wish to welcome me to the
possibility of continuing to stay alive.

I prayed to God to provide His healing,
knowing that it is vanity to so assume.
Still, He does promise to attend to
our healing petitions and to comfort
those who suffer in spirit or body.

This body, consuming itself with the
poisons growing, is just a place where
my soul resides. Yet, it is the only
vessel I have and so in humility I
wish it to survive. Without the soft
weakness would be a blessing, a
relief of considerable importance.

Resurrection is promised by God's
Church and in His Scriptures. This
I cling to with weakened faith, to
match the weakness of the believing
that sometimes defines my thoughts.
In truth, one must adhere to some
sort of spiritual comfort. So in this
hope I shall remain in adherence.

If I should die before I wake, I
pray the Lord my soul to take.