SPEAKING WITH THE EYES

It's not long now

It just won't stop

Gurgling and gushing up

I haven't slept all night and the blood keeps flowing and flowing

It's blue and still out there

It looks like death...and very soon at that

And yet I feel the most magnificent breeze

The pure light is within reach

As this clear wind rushes toward me

Swelling from a blue sky

The blue is the blue of a rush mat scarred by fire

Of waves of autumn blossoms formed

In flowers like hair, like young maple buds

Dressed in your black frock coat

Could you be on your way home from a medical conference

If death takes me now I cannot complain

Seeing how diligently and cleverly you have attended me

Could my indifference to suffering

Despite the constant flow of blood

Be a sign that the soul is now half-departed from the body

My sole torment is that because of this blood

I am unable to tell you this

In your eyes I am no doubt a wretched sight

But from here...after all

All I can see is that clear blue sky

And a transparent wind