EXPERIENCING TRUTH
One morning he woke up dead
And found his wife crying by the bed.
He sat up out of his body and said,
“My darling, there’s nothing to dread.
Life without me will forge on ahead.”
Her face popped out of her apron, and her tears stopped.
She stared at her husband, both dead and sitting on the bed.
“Love of my life,” she said, “It’s not for you I’m crying.
You are un-crippled now and faring well I see.
Your leg is back, and so too your hand.
Tis out of joy that I cry
To see how well you are after you die.”
He looked down at his body fair,
Clenched his fist and wiggled the toes that were not there.
“Indeed,” he said. “That seems to be the case.”
And he eased out of bed with the utmost grace.
The music started, and he gave her his hand.
That’s when their dance began.
Twirling and whirling around the bed
They dipped and swayed as if he were not dead.
Their daughter opened the door
And saw her mother dancing around the floor,
Alone, and to a silent score.
“Mother! What are you doing?” she said.
“Dancing with your father, as you can see.”
The ensuing struggle for Reality,
Ended when Mom stopped dancing,
Planted her fists on her hips
And took a strong stance.
She said to her daughter, and pointed,
“There’s a three-days-dead body lying on that bed.
It isn’t your father anymore.
Never was, even before.
So let him go, daughter mine.
It’s way past time.”
The daughter turned pale and peeked at the corpse,
No longer pink and starting to stink.