A brush with mortality
Makes one re-evaluate one’s priorities.
Things, stuff, crap; all can be replaced.
But You?  You cannot.

The frailty of our human condition
Hammered home with frightening images.
I cried in fear, in love, in despair.
For You.  Only You.

Helplessly waiting for this thing to abate,
Heart pounding terror at the numbers.
Trying hard to be tough, strong, failing miserably.
My strength is You.  My rock is You.

Tears again, but this time in relief,
The Reaper turned away at the door.
More time has been given for us to be living.
For You, My Love. For Me.