Brush With Death

A brush with death,
The cold breath, past,
The embrace broken,
The soul returned.

Life much appreciated,
Colors more lively,
The sky prettier,
And the sea more mysterious.

Like a veil torn away,
Misery lifts off,
An understanding of life,
When so nearly snatched.

So like a resurrection,
That life was lost,
But was regained,
By the Blood that shields us all.

Life becomes important,
Life becomes meaningful,
Life becomes cherished,
Never wasted in vain.

That is what I ponder,
When one experiences,
the brush of death,
And live to tell.