A life story whose ink is not yet dry,
Whose book is not yet ready for the shelf -
These 96 years seem to have flown by;
There’s nothing left to fear but fear itself.
But now one slow day bleeds into another,
She wonders what remains for her to do,
Yet those who call her friend or aunt or mother
Still cherish every day she makes it through.
She says that "growing old is growing old"
This vibrant soul whose lifelong goal was teaching;
These hands that once gave life’s warmth now grow cold
And idly rest while wondering whom they’re reaching.
This teacher questions what is left to give;
Each day she’s teaching us to bravely live.
(Note: written for my beloved mother a year before she passed away)
Copyright © John Watt | Year Posted 2019
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