THE BRINK
i have rassled with death.
i have felt his breath on my bare breast and the nape of my neck.
he has tasted my sweat in all its noble defiance;
felt my pearl-like bucked front teeth
penetrate his massive, web-like hands
that snare souls with a delicate, deliberate swiftness.
the love and prayers that surrounded me then,
penetrated the air like the light, white smoke of a freshly lit incense of myrrh.
it traveled into his nostrils and brought on a great sneeze that forced him to release me.
he has looked into my eyes and seen my promised tomorrow;
allowed my clairvoyant cries of NOT YET to settle this matter.....for now.