A poem written in 4 minutes inspired by the sudden death of a man I did not know. We go to work each morning never dreaming that the dreaded morning commute could be our last visions of this life. How empty that house must be when someone never returns.

He awoke that cold October morning
Thursday would mean the weekend soon.
He stretched and yawned – went down the walkway
And drove to work beneath that setting moon.

Traffic was slower than its normal.
Rain mists rose up like vengeful ghosts.
His radio warned of the trouble
And he prayed he’d make it to his post.

You never know the fates that play
Changing our lives on a prayer and whim
We can only live for each passing moment
And find our love in family and in Him.

There was a close call on the highway
He could feel his heart sink and let go.
Sliding tires on fast and unforgiving asphalt.
He had thought this was his final road.

But something stepped in that last instant
And he thanked the Lord for living twice.
The final thoughts he’d have that moment
Were of his two small children and his wife.

The work day was uneventful
And he was glad that it was almost done.
He was counting down the moments
Until he could leave to find his home.

You never know the fates that play
Changing our lives on a prayer and a whim.
We can only live for each passing moment
And find our love in family and in Him.

At the end of my day – I seen the lights
I heard the sirens and panicked voices.
I thought about all of my own close calls
And reflected briefly on a few choices.

Someone was down – they all agreed.
His was not moving – no response.
The October rain was falling harder
He had lived – but only once.

His heart had given out on him
The angels took him far from home.
The wet walkway seemed haunted now
And his family seemed distant and alone.

You never now the fates that play
Changing our lives on a prayer and a whim.
We can only live for each passing moment
And find our love in family and in Him

©October 27, 2006 Lori S. Maynard