Poem Hunter
Facing The Wall
JH (January 4,1931 / a citizen of the world)

Facing The Wall

How will I know?
When he turns to face the wall.
Why would he do that?
It's called release, recognition,
a return to the womb.
I don't understand.
You don't have to, just accept.
Won't he be lonely?
Only for a little while.
Open your storeroom of memory
and be glad.

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Comments (4)

As I face the wall, a fleeting glimpse in my peripheral gives me pause...sway.
Reminds me of the 'Tibetan Book of the Dead' and the process they go through to release the spirit from this world...Coach
I loved this poem....shelving this one.
This poem could only be written by someone of mature years. A profound, simply stated piece about life and death and freedom from both. I feel a strange sense of peace as I read your words. love, Allie xxxx