Thursday, March 14, 2013

Of dusk and of grief

The setting sun, like a ball of fire,
 on my mother's final day.

Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills, from the sky;
All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.

Fading light, dims the sight,
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.
From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.

Thanks and praise, for our days,
'Neath the sun, 'neath the stars, neath the sky;
As we go, this we know, God is nigh.

Fare thee well, precious mother.  Go in peace.

2 comments:

  1. Oh you make me cry. Good work Jenny. She is here with me and she is oh so peaceful...watching over her peeps and smiling.

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  2. Indeed she is, Geo; indeed she is.

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