By Dave Hood
In a room painted white as the light of eternity,
a sturdy bedside table stands with a comforting radio,
glass vase filled with water, three yellow tulips
delivered as a gift of hope by a loving daughter.
Spring sunshine streams through a window,
illuminating the pale face of an elderly man,
wrapped in white sheets, lying in a hospital bed,
listening to Gorecki’s symphony No. 3—-
A learned, full-time agnostic, skeptical of anything
that couldn’t be proven by logic or reason,
the elderly man now terrified of what might become
of his soul,
shuts his eyes, begins weeping, then praying—
making a request for an “end” to his bodily agony,
mental torment, forgiveness for his lifelong doubt.