GUILTY (OF BEING HUMAN)


I am racing down the highway at night
When an unexpected signal light

Shines, blood red, I'm a moment too late,
I accelerate recklessly, tempting my fate,

The next thing I know, an unearthly quick jolt
Shakes me to the marrow like a lightning bolt,

In the following seconds of dissipating haze
I view, in wonder, a visage and gaze,

So solemn, serene and yet wondrously kind,
I think, "This is it, or I'm losing my mind!"

Moving closer, so smoothly, as if on a gurney,
There's only that face at the end of my journey,

A humbling countenance, I alone must confront,
The lips are parting, there's no sound, but I want

To fathom what's happening and why there's no pain,
He must be the Creator, assessing my gain,

He enumerates my natural born assets with clarity,
Describes my innermost thoughts with familiarity,

With eyes so expressive and a voice like the wind
He reveals my shortcomings and points out my sins,

He palpates my heart with His feathery scrutiny,
I wonder how I'll ever survive His review of me,

I wish He would stop the vignettes of my youth,
My adulthood He covers with well-deserved reproof,

He goes on at length, while I ponder my fate,
At last, He seems slightly amused that I'm late

For my own demise, I would have come sooner
But He spared my life after many a boner,

Though I've sometimes been guilty of pride, sloth and tardiness,
He finds me acceptable (in spite of success),

Surprisingly, He acknowledges the worth of my days --
I receive a "Well done!" and some unexpected praise.

                                                          by D. Edgar Murray