Her tired eyes in firelight,
Whisper,
Speaking in broken words,
Softly, yet fearlessly,
fully, wholly,
lovingly
of death, of sorrow,
of joy in the next room.
Warm words fall from her lips, her heart,
Imagery from a bedside’s “darkest hour”
now at the doorstep,
her Beloved’s crossroad,
meridian of existence evolving in light,
honored
In the presence of Love,
A great goddess whose
Light never seemed brighter,
Or beauty seem so radiant,
Than now, in this moment,
this inevitable moment
when she does not give up, or say good bye,
But remains steady
Despite exhaustion,
She speaks assuredly of surreal dreams,
of yesterday, today, and tomorrow,
A wild flower bending gently
in acquiescence of change,
She lovingly steps away from her fireplace
and lends a hand
in the crossing of the
threshold of time.
KKLE November 17, 2013
hinarising 