BY GLORIA O’KOYE
Everyone wants a peaceful departure from this worldly realm.
The longer a body fights the gravity of time passing,
A soul becomes weary,
Begging for the beholder to please let go.
Time to move on, the pleas increase.
Vivid hallucinations of loved ones
Waiting at the end of the tunnel,
A bridge crossing over
Without a chance of return.
Sometimes a spirit calls the shot
whispering its plans to the harp of intuitions.
Everyone knows and reacts when it is almost time,
Starting from four months the detachment begins,
only those that are in tune with their gut feelings would decipher from the start.
By the last two weeks, a sudden tsunami of love rushes into the subconscious minds,
Even acting out in tantrums of a toddler
Once a man, twice a child
To complete the circle.
