THE PASSAGE

(Dedicated to Winnie, who loved me as much as any mother would...)

I could feel the agony
seep into every fibre of my being.
I wreathed and whined in pain.
She caressed me and held me close to her 
in an untiring effort to help me, but in vain.
The pain blurred my vision,
And made her appear like haze.
Each drip of the life giving panacea
Left in me a seething trail of excruciating pain.
Storm raging and howling in the dark night.
Seemed to rage in me with all its might.
The Pain flashed through my limbs
Like the lightning tearing through the gloom.
Thunder claps like clarion call
Of the Reaper coming for me soon; 
Filling me with the the primal fright;
My entire being shivered against the 
reassuring warmth of her caress;
As she comforted me sensing my distress.
The pain gradually crossed 
the threshold of my mortal endurance.
Gradually dulling my every sense
To the pain of death overpowering my existence.
The warmth of her touch seemed to recede.
As numbness of my senses failed me to heed
To her frantic efforts to assuage the agony.
She could sense me drifting away 
from her conscious effort to revive me again.
In the stormy twilight 
she hummed my favourite tune.
In her ceaseless effort 
To bring me alive from the dead for good.
In the dark stormy night 
her song seemed to come from a distance.
Often drowned by the thunderclaps 
Like coa nstant reminder of primeval existence.
The cuckoo from is arboreal abode
Braved the storm and sung her tune
And echoed my favourite tune she hummed
Cuckoo's song synced with my favourite song
That she sang for me all night long.
To her, the cuckoo's song  was like a ray of hope
In her struggle to win  my life's battle.
So, she sung in unison with the cuckoo
who ushered in the dawn after a stormy gloom.
To her, the cuckoo was the harbinger of my revival
To her, it was from the death's threshold return and arrival.
To her, it was my physical triumph over the crippling disease.
She held me close and sang along with the cuckoo with this belief.
Little did she realise, the cuckoo's tiding.
It was time for my life to wind in:
For her, it was a battle with mortality.
For her, it was a promise to revive me.
For me. it was no battle at all, It was my passage....
A wizening passage from my mortal existence.
To that of the eternal being as a thought-
That would remain alive to eternity...
At the speed of thought,
Transcend all boundaries, be a cosmic reality
 As an omnipresent and omniscient...
She clung to my mortal remains
bathing it with her tears.
She felt, like a beaten warrior
Who lost the battle with death.
She could not extend my life giving breath:
for few more day breaks and few more sunshine.
She could not see the twinkle of life in my eyes.
She could not see the breath of smile
Sweeping over my lifeless face.
She could not feel my body 
Reverberate with the breath of life.
She looked up to the window 
To see the sky change its hue.
She saw the cuckoo fly away from its perch
To the sky so clear and blue.

She closed her eyes and wiped away her tears
Assuring herself that now I had nothing to fear.
Gazing towards the heavens she knew she did her best.
She then rose up to prepare my mortal remains for its final rest.