Typhoon

I realized that I stopped thinking,
beyond the day I get a next scan.
It’s not a total blank in November,
but what’s missing, is a plan.

No thoughts about newfound passions,
no reading what retirement will be like....
It’s like the future has just disappeared,
there is no visible trail, to take a hike.

Now, the spring of my inner strength,
is not fed by promise or premonition.
What I have, provides me happiness,
kindles my flame, is my daily ignition.

The edge of my world is 9 Days away,
beyond lies a veiled outline, a new start?
Perhaps I can start dreaming again,
and my hope will not come apart.

Like a typhoon, pounding relentlessly,

cancer demands respect, leaving a deadly trail.

Hope provides shelter, from nature’s forces,

I used to sail, challenge myself, now I feel frail....

Being honest with myself, drives me on,

it releases my energy, my slowing chains,

We are passengers, keepers of knowledge,

we pass on, what’s in our children remains.