Nearing nine decades, you were
weak of heart, frailer than frail,
thinner than thin, paler than pale,
never one to give in, your soul had lost its body’s–fight.
Your mind, still strong, your voice was weak,
only your eyes could tell of its defeat;
(those eyes, intelligent and wise).
Fading fast about us, the only will remaining, was the will to live,
its strength of purpose hung about the bed
courting your spirit, preparing for its flight.
I could almost taste the ward, so white,
the sterile coldness seeping deep inside your ag`ed bones.
The Earth became a stranger to you then;
you’d little left to learn, nought to fear, it was clearly time to leave,
without one tiny tear or ounce of fuss, right to the end,
(no softly-spoken angels in your wake),
just a final straightening-up, one quick soft look, an outstretched hand
so all seemed strangely right and fitting for the day.
For me, a sadness and a pain
that lies down low, so deep within my heart,
a grief that I must bear, soothed only by your strength.
I felt that as you quietly passed; your spirit rose
to stillness and to certain Paradise,
away from all the darkness and the sadness in this world,
the world you bade farewell to on that stark November day.