Here you are in pain and in tears, sitting on my bed.
There is gray hair in your beard and you flinch with every pang.
Before you were born, I dreamed of you. I washed you in some idyllic pool.
There was sunlight in the waterfall and on your skin and you were fair.
The pain is more than you can bear. It never seems to end. It will not heal.
“Can you help? Can I lean on you?” You ask, and wait for a reply.
Would God that I could. I know that pain of body, pain of soul.
I see mirrored an infinity of generations, giving and receiving pain.
If I could wash away that pain in a warm pool, I would.
The waterfall would lavender infectious wounds and let them heal.
Remembering the dream, I place my hand upon your head.
God grant that benediction we now beg.
A very moving piece, Pat. Thank you for sharing it. Peace to you. 🙏🏻
With much love to you, Pat, as you remember.... Love never dies.