Second Death

“That’s interesting – lung problems now”
Then asked about my feelings – how
They fared with me in this new state –
To which I did not hesitate –

“To door of death I’ve closer been,
This territory thus I’ve seen
Once death is faced in life somehow
Its terror bides less in me now.”

In other ways death’s second round
I’ve seen, and similarly found
Its impact also lessened when
I’ve dealt with it away back then.

It’s what Baptism means for me –
A buried life that’s dead, you see,
Dead to a life no longer cool
Left now behind, lest I be fool.

It was with Jesus long ago
This meaning of Baptism rose.
For years the “Mikva” bath did cleanse
Enabling life with cleaner lens.

But Jesus took Baptism up
To larger meaning – just our luck –
“I’m dead to mankind’s silly way,
So burry me, (symbolically) –

“I want to live reverse of this:
I think the way of life we’ve missed –
Instead of trying to God impress
I think God wands my readiness –

“To act with Him in each new day
So He can work in lives His way
To bring relief or healing word
To those whose lives are quite absurd.

“I’ve died to mankind’s other ways
Of running round through helpful days
Of doing all those things so nice
While giving others sage advice.

“To lay before God’s feet our lives
A quick response for which to strive
Not to the needs confronting us
But to God’s potent acts in muss.

“God gives in life resource and power
To freely walk alone each hour
But option lies before us great –
Join force with God – participate.

“When we do that resource expands
Beyond what we do with our hands
His power and resource mighty are
Our blend with God’s like gas in car.”

Like Christ, to life of solo walk
I’ve ‘died’ before, with solo talk
Was ‘buried’ in Baptism, see
Then ‘rose’ – new life – symbolically.

But first I’d died to that old life
Buried alive – that would be strife!
The other way I’d found for me
Was limited futility.

So unresponsive to demands
Of all the things that came to hand
For me, prerequisite to be
Baptized – or buried – in the sea.

Sometimes I find on other shore
Some aspects of my life of yore
I simply toss them ’cross the pond
As they are not where they belong.

By far the greatest blessing here
Is death to former things held dear
When they are stolen, taken, grabbed,
Already dead to them – less sad.

It’s not that grief’s not known to me
(Just look before last Christmas tree!)
It’s more as this affected lung –
Addressing it’s not just begun.