The right to choose not to die,
see cherished people leave the room,
hear voices fade.
Give me back their sound!
The right to choose youth again.
To think with the speed of light.
To hold the little ones I adored,
the blessed company of my friends.
May I have the choice of life!
No choice, something whispers.
No choice.
The anger in my soul, no choice.
But I have the choice to embrace.
To reach through blankets and embrace.
To extend my patience to the old.
To the boys and girls grown fragile,
sick and lonely.
To fill the house with noise,
the children I love,
retreating to the dark of other rooms,
and let them know they are strong
and will be again,
too good a vintage not to taste,
grown sweet with time.