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