Wondering why I'm still here
In big cold at heart Izmir.
Contemplating how I escaped death
Realizing once again
It may not be a sweet goodbye
Surrounded by friends family
Love forgiveness and peace.
The other window may open
With no warning
Am I prepared? My soul ready?
What does that even mean
Short version who knows
No more wasting, been here before.
Gratitude abounds amid shock and fear.
There is no perfect 'ready' time to die.
We all will though, with warning possibly long or short,
possibly agonizing,
Or without warning or premonition.
Over, done, on to the next door.
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