Gone
Spirit, that gave me life.
Why did you leave without a word?
Or inquisition?
To let us reach an agreement?
When the Creator called, you left quietly;
leaving the flesh void and lifeless.
You abandoned a precious abode,
just anywhere you chose.
Did you not hear me say, “I want to live forever?”
Or when I prayed, “I want to go like Elijah?”
Oh, spirit, that gave me life.
I should have appreciated life more,
rather than complain about those who left;
I should have loved those who did not.
I should have counted every breath.
Because, in the grave,
How do I express my gratitude?