Faded Roses
Sleep eludes me, my thoughts engulf me...
The room is quiet....
I hear a branch outside my window, scratch the glass, in winter's wind
I cannot slumber, I cannot escape the waiting, I have no tears left to cry
Reflected shadows, dark silhouettes of trembling trees, hover over me
Oh God,... please take her now...
Is it early morn, or early evening? It is so hard to tell...
when day is night, and night is day,... each passing hour seems alike.
At last it seems this night that would never end,
is quickly giving away to morning
Restlessly, I turn to face the wall
In the faint light, I can barely see the flowered wallpaper
in pale pastels, ....sweet roses.......
I count them one by one, soft shades, a trace of the pink that they used to be
worn by the years, faded by the sunlight that comes in the afternoon light...
before the darkness filled the room....
I remember when she picked this cheery pattern...so bright with color
Another time, ..... an eternity ago,
It is loose at the seams, just a faint remnant of color....
Again, I turn my head to check on her.
The large poster bed, holds her like a small child
She looks lost among the covers.
I see the frailness, a delicate shell of the woman she used to be,
The bedside clock ticks steadily... winding down...hour by hour, minute by minute
I watch the movement of her chest as it barely rises, and falls
So shallow the breathing, it struggles and she endures
I thank God that she seems to be sleeping
And I pray that her dreams are happy ones
.......................................................................................................................................
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