Intuition

Did you know you were dying?
I mean, did you really know?

Was there some part of your thinking
(Your soul?)
Not yet ravaged by the cancer?
A piece of the "real you"
Left untrammeled
And intact, able to sense
This terrible thing you told me
(Too many times to bear),
This thing I could not, would not hear.
Did you know something I did not?

I sobbed, my heart bled tears that day
For all that was already lost.
I cried for missing you, the "real you",
The fear of future losses
Inevitable and crushing.
Yet something in me, a strength I did not recognize
Would not, could not surrender
To Death plucking at your sleeve.
There was still too much blind faith
In this naive heart of mine.

You rose to the occasion that day,
Something of your old self
Awakening briefly,
Your warm embrace and soothing tone
Calming me with stories
Of sunlight and birdsong at dawn,
Perfect peace on a Summer morning.
And I asked you then
(Sensing something amiss), I asked:
"And where will you be?"

"I'll be one of the birds", you said.
Did you know then that you were dying?

—Eileen Auger (c) 2004

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