DEFYING THE CALL
Copyright 2015 John Stephen Rohde
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Death is tugging at my arm
and calling out my name.
“Your time is nigh,” he howls
and pulls me to the earth
to commingle with the dust
of countless forgotten souls
but I resist his deadly force
and cry in a plaintive voice
that I’m not ready to go
into that long good night.
I want more moving moments
of re-energizing joy
and even cleansing sorrow
before I must disappear
with the fading of the light.
“Your time is near,” he utters.
I ignore his ruthless beckoning
and look for a glow in the sky
to show me that a beacon of life
still shines in my bleary eyes.
I want to see another sunrise,
hear another morning bird song,
sense the fragrance of a flower,
touch yet again the warm flesh
of a kindhearted human hand.
“Your time is close,” he whispers.
Pretending deafness to his call,
I stand straight and tall as I can
and deny the relentless pull
of his pale, skinless, boney arm.
The drive to stay alive still thrives
in my weary heart-beaten breast
and I struggle to carry the burden
of threescore and ten plus years.
For I have many worthy reasons
for which to survive this stretch
we casually call life on Earth,
not the slightest of which are
more lines like these on a page.
Surviving early life in Los Angeles, Jack Forge has been creating art since childhood. After college, he taught English for many years. His poems, stories, graphic art, and novels have been published on the internet; one novel as a paperback. Despite the storm and stress of the world, Jack lives for art, nature, and love.
Cover by Jack Forge.
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