Titleless Poem (like Emily Dickinson's)

(by Michael)

There once was an old man,
Tender and grey,
Who looked out his window
One cold winter’s day,

His old eyes were open
Not looking around.
Beside his squeaky rocking chair
Nothing made a sound,

As he sat there rocking,
He remembered days gone by.
Suddenly the rocking stopped
And a tear formed in his eye.

The old man’s face grew tired
As he remembered his past pain.
The feelings from that awful day,
Like an old knife wound they came.

As the tear ran slowly down
The tired man’s dear face
He remembered her love and tenderness
And the warmth of her embrace.

Once he had started rocking again
He asked, “God why did she leave?
Am I to live in agony
Only living to grieve?”

After asking his heart felt question
His tears swelled up once more,
And as he dosed off his glasses
Dropped silently on the floor.

While he slept he dreamt of things
He never thought in this life he’d see.
He saw her face and held her close.
He was a bundle of jubilee.

Laughing a laugh the likes of which
His body had never known,
In his dreams and in her arms
He felt like he was home.

The man’s cat came up purring
Awaking him from sleep.
When the man realized where he was,
It made him begin to weep,

Now a cry of anguish
From losing her again
Filled his little, drafty house
With the sound of immense pain.

How could he bear it,
With dreams such as that,
Who had awakened him?
Oh, that stupid cat.

Had he been close to dying
Was he really almost home
Only to return, to his lonely life
With all the pain which it had known?

With a bitter heart he sat there
Wishing it were not so.
Why was she the one taken
Could he not also go?

With these thoughts he fell yet again
Into an uneasy sleep,
But the dream he dreamt this time ‘round
Was truly an occasion to weep.

For all around him were thousands
Wailing and shouting in pain.
The sound was the same as that
Which from himself once came.

But there was no end to their weeping.
No silence was ever found.
In his dream he found himself weeping
As he fell to the cold hard ground.

When suddenly he looked up
And there before his eyes
The darkness broke, the wailing ceased,
As he beheld the blazing skies.

From within the fiery sight
A figure familiar and strong
Held out its hand and helped him up
While singing a strange new song.

What a song, a wild, beautiful song,
The sweetest ever heard,
And as it faded, and the brightness waned,
He softly heard these words,

“Son, why do you grieve?
When so long ago
I chose the time
For her to go.

She is with me.
I’ll never leave you.
I’ve told you as much,
And I know you knew.

My child, do not greive.
Your time has been set,
But it cannot be now.
Trust me, not yet.”

And as he awoke
Before dreaming more
Two Jehovah’s Witness’
Approached his old wooden door.

Looking toward heaven
He whispered now silently,
“Ah, yes, dear Lord,
I think… yes, now I think I see.”