Hold Me

Again, I lie awake,
overcome, lonely, and longing
for arms to envelop me,
not in sighing for romance,
but engulfed in grief,
unable to waylay the acute awareness
of our own mortality.
Our plans are cut
short by premature death and painful aging,
and no amount of explaining
will make dying right.
I know that we all run out of time
to live all our ideas
and keep our loved ones safe
from the same fate that grips us.
And, as dull sleep slips beyond
the reach of my now active mind,
I long to find your arms,
fall into a full-bodied embrace,
not to stir in us some passion,
just to hold and be held.
Let my head rest upon your chest,
so I can listen for the sound
of your still beating heart,
the rise and fall of your breathing,
the tell-tales signs that
at least we two are among the living.
And though these bodies be fleeting,
our eternal souls will meet in those moments,
giving definition to the promise
of life in the world to come,
and uninterrupted joy
after a world of pain.
Hold me as our souls transcend
the ticking clock of mortality.
Hold me, and don’t let me go.

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