Generations

08 Jan 2007

daria
With dying breaths, a focus on life,
widowed so long, apart from my wife...
Years left alone, lost in mind's eye,
remembered, a time, a time I could fly.
Spring of my life, no aches and no pain,
was then that we met, no looking again.
My past died that day, my future so bright,
we danced, we smiled and we loved through the night.
Intake of air, not many left now,
crippled with age, a life gone somehow...
I'm back in the past, chruch bells do chime,
you walk down the aisle, about to be mine.
I will and I do, the rings they are passed,
the union of souls, two ships with one mast.
First goal completed, this time we smiled,
Second would come, would come with our child.
Darkness oppressive, a miasma of sorrow,
one breath more, i won't see tomorrow...
You screamed in such pain, pain without end,
second goal was coming, the hurt she would mend.
Unknown to me then, you gave all in birth,
the birth of our daugter, was your last on this earth.
We buried you soon after, my life cast in flames,
we didn't have chance, chance to pick names.
Visitors come, a vigil for death,
rattling lungs, struggling for breath...
We stand at your grave, mossy, overgrown,
Our daughter, with a child, a child of her own.
Flowers laid fresh, a tear in my eye,
My love, mother, granny, we whisper goodbye.
I wonder has life, been good or been bad,
Can't make my mind up, for that i am glad.
With my last breath i ponder, that question again,
memmories of joy versus memmories of pain...
Over and over, it runs through my head,
the gift of life against the curse of the dead.
With crystal clear clarity, the answer arrives,
a timid knock on the door, i open my eyes.
my grand-daughter frowns, I can't help but smile,
the answers i sought where here all the while.

Rhyming

Philosophical

42

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daria

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