It is believed that when a person is nearing death, they have seven minutes to replay their whole life. Some believe it is the time that a person’s soul travels to heaven, while others turn to a more scientific view explaining the last active chemicals in a person’s bloodstream. Regardless, if there were such thing as someone’s “Last Seven Minutes”, what would they look like?

 

June 18th, I see white walls

My crying heard throughout the halls

A snuggle, a breath, and open eyes

3 a.m., but still I rise

 

A storm is brewing through the night

Claps of thunder, bounds of light

Sleeping with mama, quiet cries

Tiny murmurs, but still I rise

 

First day of school and mama’s gone

The kids are mean; the days are long

My teacher yells with wasted sighs

I hate this place, but still I rise

 

I grow older, as little girls do

I turn ten but my sister is two

All the attention on her, love just flies

I feel forgotten, but still I rise

 

Years pass on, now mama’s weak

Her final breath from pale white cheeks

Lowered down, under colorless skies

The days just get harder, but still I rise

 

I try to cope but life turns dim

The darkness encroaches from within

I keep waiting, but my spirit dies

It’s all too much, but still I rise

 

Then a glimmer of light true love from another

Brings happiness and joy, just like my mother

She’s watching from a view only heaven provides

The walk is bittersweet, but still I rise

 

Get married, have kids, they say that’s the plan

But some are just different, we don’t know if we can

Day by day after countless tries

We’ll pray for a chance, but still I rise

 

The time has come, in a bundle of white

Her looks are like mama, to my delight

It’s what comes after that makes me wise

She’s only the first, but still I rise

 

They keep you busy, that’s one thing I know

She has it all planned out and she’s ready to go

Baby please stay, “But MOM!” she replies

I can’t let her leave, but still I rise

 

Now all grown up and she’s off to State

With all the rest I pray she’s safe

Worry clouds, the doubt, it pries

Overcome with angst, but still I rise

 

A mom of her own and I surely am proud

“It’s what every mother wants”, her grandmother vowed

But the creases grow deeper with age’s disguise

My mind feels like crumbling, but still I rise

 

I fall in reverse and reflect back on time

The past is quickly fading to one blurry line

She holds my hand while she says her goodbyes

But I say, “Don’t worry, for now I rise.”