Today I was alone in my mom’s hospital room holding her hand and watching her sleep. I noticed movement behind her eyelids and realized that she was dreaming and I started contemplating what she might be dreaming about. And this poem came into my head and there I was holding my mom’s hand in one of my hands while writing this poem on my phone with the other one.
What do the dying dream of?
Is it the lives they’ve lived and
Are leaving behind?
Or are they going to an orientation
In the life after this one?
Is that why they start speaking again of
Loved ones long gone?
Do they begin drawing near
In the land of dreams
And then break through to
The land of life
As the departure draws closer?
What is it like for them to step back
Through the veil
Only for a brief time?
To see the changes in loved ones
Still journeying among the living.
Or have they watched through
The curtain dividing the two worlds
And have seen everything?
Maybe that’s what the dying dream of
Do they cross over and peer back
Whispering to others about
What is to come?