DM Babbit Poet Rhyme

An Old Lady

In Church today at the dawn of morning light,
  she sat in front of me
  hunching over just a little to my right.
Pale, frail, mottled unfolded hands, 
   with hint of a slight tremor
   she fingered the hymnal rising unsteadily to stand.
I watched her as she struggled with the pages
  searching for the song the choir sang
  with desire to sing as she had in past ages.
Age had stolen much from her
   some memory, health and time
   spryness and agility now remain only a blur.
Her vision bore images of youth and boundless energy
   lost in the  memories of a life lived well
   that now waned from illness, age and generalities.
She was on the slide of time
   chasing it down around the hidden corners
   the twists and turns and unexpected blessings sublime.
In my ponderings I recognize the truths expressed
   with close friends, loved ones and family
   she was and is surrounded by what is always best.
At her side, they gently guided each and every step
   patient and directing her so not to let her fall
   filled with love and life, faith at its very depth.
What miraculous a goal with nothing to append
    all done satisfied and close in reach, 
    complete achieving all at the journeys end

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