The Crossing

December 15, 2010
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The last thing I remember
was the bright light
and the soft water on my skin.
Then a moment of black.
Now I'm here
Standing in front of the rickety wooden bridge
On top of the placid waters
of the crystal clear lake.
The voices singing for me to stay.
Others pleading for me to cross.
I slowly start to inch forward
crossing the waters below.
This picturesque scene.
And I wonder where I'm at.
Then I know I'm in between.
Realization of life and how much I've missed.
The tears flow down my cheeks.
And the soft mist carries me away.

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