Over two decades ago I lay on a hospital bed with a near fatal illness. It was an airconditioned from and as soon as everybody left after putting me there, I scrambled onto my bed weakly, opened the windows and looked out.

 “Sir,” said a nurse who was passing by, “this is an AC room, the room will get hot!”

 “I know,” I said as I peered out through the window.

 “It’s a terrible view,” she said. “That’s a swamp outside and those are dogs wading in the filth.” I watched the dirty animals and smiled. I had never known dogs loved to play in the muck and I watched them with delight.

 “What are you doing?” asked the doctor.

 “Enjoying what I never enjoyed before,” I said.

I was fortunate to come out of the hospital and after that stop myself ever so often to enjoy a sunset or sunrise, the sound of the rain or the waves of the sea. Even those dogs in the muck was a sight I enjoyed when so close to death.

This poem I have reproduced below was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital: It’s called ‘Slow dance”.

                                                SLOW DANCE

Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round?

Or listened to the rain slapping on the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight?

Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

You better slow down don’t dance so far.

Time is short. The music won’t last.

Do you run through each day on the fly?

When you ask How are you? Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done Do you lie in your bed

With the next hundred chores Running through your head?

You’d better slow down Don’t dance so far..

Time is short. The music won’t last.

Ever told your child, We’ll do it tomorrow?

And in your haste, Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch, Let a good friendship die

Cause you never had time To call and say, “Hi”

You’d better slow down. Don’t dance so far.

Time is short. The music won’t last.

When you run so far to get somewhere

You miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day,

It is like an unopened gift….Thrown away.

Life is not a race. Do take it slower.

Hear the music before the song is over!

   This young girl had 6 months left to live, and her dying wish was that she wanted to send this poem telling everyone to live their life to the fullest, since she never would. So hear the music before your song Is over..!

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