Monday, January 11, 2010


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.

Post a Comment