We were sitting on the sofa, side by side,
You looked at me and sort of jokingly said,
You know, mom, I'm a genius.
You often claimed to be a genius in a light-hearted way,
It was an amusing thing that you would say;
We laughed and we smiled,
And I replied, that could be,
Thinking that you had always been remarkable to me.
You next said, as an aside,
That geniuses often don't live very long lives;
I acknowledged that this was true,
But didn't make any connection with you.
You were not ill at ease,
It was just an observation made to me;
I wish that I had asked you then,
If you had some premonition.
But when your son is healthy and alive,
You don't consider that he might die;
Could it be that your soul knew,
The transition you would shortly be going through?
There are many mysteries that the universe holds,
And I long to have answers told,
I pray for divine wisdom and insight,
So I may surrender into the light,
And be at peace with life's questions,
As I journey towards you and heaven.