A Poem Composed In A Heartbeat
While discussing dreams of death and my funeral, my son was composing his reply to my passing away — in poetry
Seven years ago this very day, I was chatting with my son and daughter. Online. Our gadget cameras were not on. We were just typing. The two were in separate countries in Europe while I was back in Manila for a spell.
When I joined the type-chat, the two were discussing a dream about death. I shared my own dream, a very vivid dream I dreamt not long ago.
Note that there was no tinge of negativity in our conversation. My children are intelligent adults, with lives and careers of their own.
My dream was about my own funeral. It was a sunny day, sunny but cool. Perhaps late spring or early autumn. I could almost feel the sombre breeze in that dream. There was no sadness in me as I looked down at the scene.
My daughter looked too beautiful in black, in grief, with a matching black hat on. My son, in dark formal suit, was disconsolate in repose.
After describing the dream about my funeral, I reassured the two that I did not mind dying before them. That is the way that it should be.
But I emphasised that I wanted to live longer. I was enjoying my corporate job for one, something that gave me the freedom to work wherever I was in the world.
Best of all, I still wanted to write my murder-suspense novels, veering away from the numerous romance novels they saw me writing when they were growing up.
Before I was done typing the above, my son had written a poem about dying, writing it in a heartbeat.
Please let me share it with you.
For Those Left Behind
Don’t tell me I’m dead when I die
Just sit somewhere near as we cry
Allow me to borrow your strength
And let me admire you at length
Don’t shuffle the plans you have made
Just don’t allow our loves to fade
Don’t mourn too much, time will not wait
Let both of us live out our fates
And definitely don’t follow me
Don’t sabotage what you can be
Remember, wherever you go
Nobody’d be prouder, you know
Don’t worry, I will be just fine
We’ll live on in each other’s mind
And no matter how often you restart
Let me also live on in your heart.
(NOTE: The poem above is composed by my son who is a game developer whiz but he also writes poetry and essays when the muse visits him.)
Recommended reading:
The images gleaned while savouring this lovely poetry by is a feast for sensitive, creative minds. But I’m inclined to ask: when a dream wakes up, what does it leave behind?
’s poetry is always a joy to read. The way she weaves words is like ambrosia that melts in the mouth leaving a delightful experience.
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