Monday, January 11, 2010

Mystery



Several weeks before you died,
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.

1 comment:

strokeofliving said...

Applause - bravo Claire Ann,

Oh the pain you must feel. God will give you answers. He's a comforter.

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