A man stood beneath the tree,
Waiting it seemed, for me
His gaze was soft as diamond
His mood as light as iron
He had been waiting for me
But why beneath this tree?

This tree was like most around it
Red leaves and branches
But unlike boughs in woods confounded
This one stood alone
The hangman’s noose upon its branch
The grass around it dead
And though I felt fit as a fiddle,

The tree filled me with dread.

I approached the man with care
He asked me for my name
Perhaps trying to cause a scare
He asked my silence again
At last I felt my courage rise
And deigned it wise to answer
And he nodded, to my surprise,

He Spoke. “Born the sign of cancer”

How could he know that, I did wonder
Then realization dawned
This was no man, nor land I lived in
My life, indeed, was gone.
The memory threatened to drown me
But He then took my hand
I left there as Death had found me
And guided my soul to the promised land