White Lace
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White Lace
Mother died today.
They called me.
I thought they did not have, my number.
They never called before, now.
Why bother to call now?
What can be said about sad things,
that have been talked about too much
by too many people for too long.
There are only hard feelings...
finally, let go by time
and the help of the Lord.
I pray that whatever happens,
my mother goes to heaven.
I don't want her to ever suffer, any pain.
I want her to know peace.
I know peace.
I am loved.
The Lord told me so.
He kept telling me, again and again,
until I could no longer deny
the truth of Him.
In that... moment... I found forgiving,
far more joyous than reliving the hells
of yesterday, forever.
Sleep mother.
Wake up another day, and say,
that you loved me, and are sorry.
Wake up and say, you love me still.
The lace on the curtain for the window,
has rotted through because of the bright... harsh sun.
However, the view of the outside,
that of the garden
has been enhanced
by its absence.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2022
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