Whose Life Is This? I Think I Know

Whose life is that? I think I know.
Its owner scows with anger so.
Standing before the bathroom mirror
As life slips away, death draws nearer.

To himself, he introspects.
Thoughts he seeks and collects.
At times, he blames himself for all this.
The cancer and its hellish abyss.

On better days, he remembers
Cancer took many other family members,
Which in some small way consoles his guilt
That he himself sabotaged the life he built.

Beyond his feelings lies a reality.
A place where he can be free.
Another chance hopefully to start over.
And where cancer has no spillover.

Sunrise Whispers

Sunrise whispers atop the sleepy knoll.
An embrace we glimpse in the still morning air.
Sad you say, so little control.
Ardent travelers, through life we stroll.
From one day to the next I make my way.

Deeper places these whispers bring.
Clouds like islands in the sky,
And to them, I try my best to cling.
For just a while longer I wish to sing.
More sunrise whispers before I die.

Each day its share of light and dark,
And so much more in between.
Lasting memories sunrise colors spark.
From life, indeed death does embark,
And from embattled cells, cancer grows.

Without fanfare, or desperate provocation
By the frosted window, I sit watching
This morning’s holy creation.
And in my heart lies undying adoration
At the way sunrise whispers its sweet melodies.