Walking Hand in Hand

There came knock on my door last night.
It was a tall, skinny faceless man
I felt the coldness of his hand as he took mine,
We walked along the path of my life.
Over mighty bridges with streams of memories rolling past below.
He stopped and pointed for me to look down into the rapids.
I watched my life roll by over the deadly rocks of the riverbed,
with sadness and contempt all mixed into one.
He again took my hand, and I thought I felt a pulse.
Was he becoming more alive to me or was I really dying?
Fear left my body as we walked further along the path.
We stopped at a little park just outside of town.
I stood in silence as I watched my children play.
He turned to me and whispered that they would be okay.
And when he touched my hand this time his was no longer dead.
He stopped just feet from a forest, as it softly began to rain.
These are the tears your heart has cried as its slowly died over the years.
Tear drops into raindrops saddened memories fell all around me.
The cold and lonely storm came to a stop.
He turned and took my other hand, the face in front of me was one of a handsome young man and the darkness that was there before was gone.
He said, "awaken my friend and once again learn what is like to live."
I opened my eyes to see the nurses and the doctor working over me.

A tall handsome doctor looked me in the eyes,
"We thought we lost you. Welcome back."