A feather falls upon my face
Wakes me from a restless
slumber. Sitting up I see a form
so small, so perfect.
Radiant is the light from my bedside.
Never looking up, head bowed in a small
book, she sings sweetly from her tiny
heart-shaped mouth. Her voice barely audible.
Aware that I am watching her, she
is content, and doesn't falter in her task.
Under a spinning halo, her shiny black curls
dance gently at her temples.
I want to touch her face, but I am afraid of
reaching out for fear that she may leave.
In this little sphere of illumination, I can
hear the smile in her voice.
A beautiful angel, twinkling in the darkness
has come to help my mother care for me.
Satisfied that her job is done, she waits,
smiles, and nods me into a peaceful sleep.
(C)all rights reserved MS 2002
I still see her from time to time. To myself, I call her Betty
Join me as we travel together on the road called "Aging." I will be sharing my personal experiences with you and offer ideas on how we can better navigate the complex byways of our older years. Grief, healing, generations, ancestors, and more.
For a time, I perched myself on a flat rock, comparing my life with the Guyandotte River. Just as its tributaries replenish it daily, changing it in some small—sometimes great—degree, so have the day-to-day occurrences of life changed me. Like the ri
Great write.
Sharon;)
Beautiful write...
I love angel poems...:)
Thanks,
Trixie
Jenni
Sandie Angel :o)
May Lu $*_*$