Mom
She lays quietly in her bed
Not a peep….
Drifting in and out of an unknown place
That we can only know as sleep
Her misshapen, gnarled hands move,
Slowly exploring
Her chin, her nose, her ear, her brow
Relentlessly discovering
Where does she go?
My prayer is that it is to God
To quiet communion with Him
Who matters the most
Sipping nourishment through a straw
Lifted to change
Repositioned in the bed by caring hands
Sheets and blankets rearranged
How long, Mom?
How long must you endure?
Before you see the King of Kings
And know new life for sure!
A few words here and there
Slurred of speech
But precious as the rarest gem
And almost out of reach
I love you, my dearest and only Mom
Do you know?
I wish you only Jesus Christ
Fly to Jesus, Mom! Go!
In Him, you will be whole again
In Him…….free
In Him, there will be no more pain
And your shut eyes will once again see
I’m torn, Mom, wanting you to stay
With us, here
But placing you in God’s good hands
And trusting Him with my fear
Fly to Jesus, Mom!
Fly to Jesus!
And LIVE…….
<3
Ann Justin, Jan 25, 2013