One More Day
I was told of the young woman
Who at twenty must decide
How little does she need from
The promise of a life,
How little does she need
From a damaged body,
To see, to hear, to breathe
To stay, to feel, to believe
That the one more day bringing
The warmth of sunlight on her face
The sound of rain, the moisture in the air
Is worth the certainty of a life where
She will never feel the earth under her feet
Nor the touch of a kitten’s soft
Paw in her hand.
I was told of that young woman
I say a metta for her and
Whatever her choice
I understand
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