For hours, it was, having bled,
Transfusion a strong probability
My countenance pale as the hospital bed
Myself moving backward toward eternity
Alarmed, I felt my soul leaving me!
The nurse's cry for help, strangely transparent
So thin a disembodiment I could feel
I, fading quickly, quite apparent
Transcending now in circular reel
Soul now flown toward dust into dust
Reversing to birth on a turning wheel
Seeking its origin as all we must
Backward move in infinite reel
That passes in slow motion I have found
That passes before our transiting eye
Is simply a circle that is rewound
To play again forward
But never to die
Having come through, I now find
We don't ever leave, we simply rewind.
copyright 2009, Georgette Jones
