Claudia

Cracked and freckled skin wraps the frail bones of your being, Blood of the past run though the roots of your antiquity, Silver threads fall down like a cascading falls from your head And knees trembling with the passing of time. Your eyes speak of the story of a strong willed woman, Spirited, inspired and beautifully made. Your earth-tickled fingers and nails, Now crooked; yet nimble and frail. Your back, bent like the humblest bamboo, Yet still stands like the strong kapok that conquers the storm. Your lips now dry and gray with the passing years, Yet the smile it painted; dries up all our tears. Your stories of the red spot-in-white invasion and your years in Mindanao, Brought memories bridging yesterday and now. You are a tree, worthy of emulation, Imperfect like everybody else in the world. But perfection to you cannot be named; For you are more than perfect, an old tree with flowers of gold.