Another week older
With so few to spare
I see you sleeping
In the recliner chair there.
Your breathing so labored
Old man not so well
As you shiver with your dreams,
Oh the stories you could tell.
I met you too late,
Brain addled by time,
With goodness all around you
In your life sublime.
We are friends of a sort
And we have talked for a while,
Now you seldom awaken
Showing me that angelic smile,
But the oxygen concentrator pulses,
Sounding like an ICU,
There is little that is left
That reminds them of you,
For you were a rare man,
One with an open door,
And the lost and broken
Walked through it by the score.
And you hugged them for comfort,
Offered them a meal,
Spoke so solemnly
Of your Christian zeal.
And you saved more than a few,
Perhaps I am one,
We won’t know for sure
Until your days are done.
In the eyes of those you have touched
It is clear to me,
You have made a difference
So quietly.
And it hurts so much now
To see you struggle for life,
So I’ll pray for your peace,
Hope you slip away in the night,
But as we sit here
Once again for a while,
Could you show me once more
That angelic smile?