"Move or die,"
she mumbled when she stumbled
through the door
determined to live another day
"Move or die,"
she cried out at night
when the ache in her joints
felt like rivets on fire
"Move or die,"
she whispered, her final breath
before she fell asleep
in a room once familiar
She died and couldn’t move
immobile finally peaceful
floating above looking down
at a stranger in her bed
Some think there is a recipe
for life, others say
it is like winning the lottery
I believe we do the best we can
each existence has some high
and low points
suffering can be a time
for reflection while intense prayer
gives purpose to life before we expire.
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