Talking to Myself

If I were to die today, right now…

Would I be worthy?
Of the love of my wife,
Or the praise of my friends…

Could I sigh contentedly?
Comfortable with my Life
And how I treated that gift…

Would my family remember?
More good times than not,
Joy or discontentment…

I am the memories I will leave behind,
that which I share of myself.
Death need not be a morbid thought
to dwell on, but simply a measure of Truth.
We will all go that way, and
regardless of our beliefs,
we each leave something
for those after us to ponder.

This world today may not be much,
polluted as it is with violence and deceit.
Maybe every generation has felt that way.
If it is indeed the darkness that I still see,
then should I not consider how I might add
beauty and light in any measure?

50 years more?
Or a single minute,
May I be of service to you…

How have you been?
It’s nice to see you smile,
I admire much about you…

Have I told you today?
That I enjoy our time together,
Or that I love you tenderly…

Yes, it has been years since
I showed you such kindness, you’re right.
Can you understand that I was confused?
I thought that I was what mattered
in my own life, instead of seeing
the privilege allowed me by the Master.

I saw a blind man on the corner
where I turned, lunch pale at his feet,
white cane through his folded arms.
At the time, I was angry
at the way other people were driving,
very angry and self-righteous.
Then as if in slow motion and
for my benefit, I see this man
on the corner, mouth puckered
in a tune he was whistling, his unseeing eyes
closed and face lifted to the morning sun,
swaying to his own music as he waited
on a ride to go to work.
Intensely humbling this was for me.
How dare I get so angry with my gift
of Life, with those other gifts of Life
that I share my existence with?!
God bless you Sir, and thank you for the lesson.

written by Stan Hines, © 2000