Post by Rob on Aug 30, 2014 12:00:37 GMT
Living while dying
In his seventh decade he lives alone,
now mostly blind, stubborningly independent,
his home is a small comfortable trailer,
he retrieves the daily mail with a cane,
his TV is on overtime, as he fills his day.
We all find a way to live with what is before us,
his limitations scream at him, but he marches on,
what keeps him alive will never be known,
he has been cut down to so little, yet he persists.
What is it I wonder as I look at his decreasing weight,
I help him up the few steps as he walks back from the mailbox,
he seems to have his daily wanderings memorized.
He tells me he once fell from his chair and got himself up,
he lives with hard perservence, and a strength that comes from those who know the worst,
I am sure his prayers mostly are deep murmurs,
loaded with questions that would stagger most of us.
When you can’t see outside inside becomes your life,
it has been that way for him so long it is his friend,
there he sees with perfect vision, there he has a home,
which welcomes him night and day, regardless.
He offers me some pineapple from his garden,
he inspires me and leaves me to wonder about how I live,
we say good bye, he is glad to have visitors,
I think of him, I bow my head.
In his seventh decade he lives alone,
now mostly blind, stubborningly independent,
his home is a small comfortable trailer,
he retrieves the daily mail with a cane,
his TV is on overtime, as he fills his day.
We all find a way to live with what is before us,
his limitations scream at him, but he marches on,
what keeps him alive will never be known,
he has been cut down to so little, yet he persists.
What is it I wonder as I look at his decreasing weight,
I help him up the few steps as he walks back from the mailbox,
he seems to have his daily wanderings memorized.
He tells me he once fell from his chair and got himself up,
he lives with hard perservence, and a strength that comes from those who know the worst,
I am sure his prayers mostly are deep murmurs,
loaded with questions that would stagger most of us.
When you can’t see outside inside becomes your life,
it has been that way for him so long it is his friend,
there he sees with perfect vision, there he has a home,
which welcomes him night and day, regardless.
He offers me some pineapple from his garden,
he inspires me and leaves me to wonder about how I live,
we say good bye, he is glad to have visitors,
I think of him, I bow my head.