With seconds left you tell me. Lights soaring and ripping apart the sky. Stones scattered on the rain-discolored pavement. When your eyes are closed, you say, this is what eternity looks like. But you are born today or yesterday or 50 years from now. Time is shuffled like cards and God lands on whatever is drawn. So from your bedside I ask again, what do you see, what do you need and what could I do to make you stay?