Death hovers at the edges,
an uninvited guest.
We make our life decisions —
where to live, who to live with,
how to fill our days . . .
We say we never choose death

We say it’s not our choice,
it’s a clanging gong, and
you never can predict
when its dark tone
will snuff out all the plans,
will make both hopes and fears
irrelevant. (We may call it seductive,
for just that reason.)

We make our choices
as if we could manage death —
schedule it at the end
of all the other things

(Some people whisper
that you never go without a choice,
that you can remember
you always can choose life —
however strongly you are told
you must choose death, it’s never true)

Whatever. In this life, today,
I choose living. Because I am.
And life is what I Am always chooses.

©Wendy Mulhern
March 17, 2016