Borrowed Time
cheating mortality
BORROWED TIME There will come a day When my memory will fade The time I’ve borrowed Will be at an end. Warm tears will flow As the orange sun goes down Taking with it the moments I’ve won back in the game. I believe it was a miracle To survive at all Hearing voices at my bedside My eyes dazed by the light. Waking like a phoenix Burning to the ground Reduced to glowing embers Cheating greedy mortality. I never said a prayer Or called upon a god To guide me on the river To eternity. I’ve opened up my arms Letting go of life If I should breathe no more Then let it be. Each time I go under I emerge from death’s dark door With years to go Before I see a grave. A fortuitous existence Passes quietly Yet, there will come a day When Gabriel’s trumpet sounds. No matter the hours I’ve borrowed and saved The fateful ledger will clear And the minutes tick down. My meeting with the angels Will formally proceed No reprieve, no escape Just rest, finally. ©2026 Stephanie M. Vargo
There is a sense of resignation that comes across to me. I’m asking myself what part of me is reading into that or is it there. Because it’s different from acceptance. Your poem has me pondering what might be amiss there for me. Thank you.
As a 75yo with an accumulated list of “almost” and “close calls” along the way, I totally relate. There seems to come a quiet acceptance of the future that makes the appreciation of each day that much sweeter. Thank you for the work.