by Peter J White

Created on: June 11, 2010

From Hospital Hill, the city lay dumb, 
Dawn impregnated, wreathed in mist. 
“Choose Life! ”its copper-clad acropolis 
Constrained, “Your hour is not yet come.” 
“Choose Peace! ” smirked Death, conning me with adamantine claw 
To play a hand of dice, 
“Winner takes all! ”
I covered my face.

An hour before our banshee wail had scattered sleep; 
Split absent-minded traffic to the bone. “Five four 
Over three zero. ” Intoned the paramedic, nonchalant, 
By radio. My blood pressure could it be? 
What affirmation then, what hope, what guarantee
I’d raise my boys to sing 
Their own song; or see
Their rough-hewn blossoming. 

Six days and nights I fought Despair, grim undertaker
Of mankind. “Nurse, I’m dying” low, into the dark.
“Not so! ” she fiercely answered back, 
“God’s love is with you always. See! 
The charts confirm His covenant.” Breath by tortured breath
Nearby lay Pastor John
A heartbeat from death 
Riding the same, satanical storm.

Too weak for words; a wave, we smiled goodbye, 
Myself to new hope, a better place I shared 
With sun and sky. He died; my life was spared 
By God’s gracious hand. Why mine? 
A flower fades, a sparrow falls; “Code Blue! Code Blue! ”
‘Send not to know 
For whom the bell tolls. 
It tolls for you.’

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