Dying Words
He looked down at his father lying in the bed
For now he only mumbled, but one word was clearly said
Over and over and over again
For this father was different from most other men
With a rosary wrapped around his hand
Said in words you could rarely understand
Yet each and every single day of the week
You would hear "Jesus" even though he couldn't speak
Noticing more and more, the son sat by his side
Seeing his own fate in store, he bowed down his head and cried
For of Jesus the son was so unsure, though he never really tried
And just when things became a bore, his father looked up his eyes open wide
He said, "My dearest son you need not be afraid
For all along, it has been for you that I prayed
I have left you so much, so many worldly things
Now I leave you the peace that knowing Jesus brings"
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