When Death's Fingers Do Me Touch Poem by Gert Strydom

When death's fingers do me touch
do not let a preacher come
to pray for me.

I will walk alone with my God
who stands free from men
to meet Him face to face.

Do not let a doctor come
to take away the pain
or give a strain of tears

let me be to experience
the blazing sun setting in the west,
to see the moon rising in the night sky

let I live life and follow the course
that destiny design
and still make your love mine.