Is in my mind daily

Is that how one

Starts a book…

My book has been written

Right now contains 76

Chapters..:

With 77 on its way

As I stumble each hour

Of the day…

My legs are in pain

My sight has been fixed

But my mind wonders

Constantly to the end…

When will I go

On my own

Or God’s way…

I ponder this

Now

Everyday

Watching her

Wither away…

My mother said

The day you die

Is the happiest of days

Pain, worry and sadness

Are taken away..:

I pray for her daily

As I know her better

Than any that she’d

Never have chosen

This way…

Yet there she sits

On our camera

And in her mind

I can feel her words

Screaming; as would mine

Why God,

Why this way…