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Thursday, October 06, 2011

I Held Your Hand, God Holds Your Soul

I promised you
and God
that I would be there
on that fateful day
of your passing.

There were late night
phone calls saying
she's dying now,
come home quick,
this time she's really sick.

I would get there
only to find you
sitting up and breathing,
suffering with pain
the doctors could not explain.

Slowly, yet quickly,
I watched you age,
saw you waste away,
but stubbornly holding on,
even after hope was gone.

In the end it was hospice,
strangers in your house,
injecting you with medicines
that melted you into death,
everyone saying it was for the best.

I sat next to you for hours,
and I held your hand,
saying that I loved you,
hoping you would understand,
even though I knew
you were already gone.

But mom, I never did thank you
for the legacy, the gift of words that flow.
The life that you have given me
and much of what I know.
I visited your grave site just
the other day,and I found myself
crying over words I failed to say.

Your life was a hard one,
and yet you carried through,
held onto your faith
and never questioned who
was your savior,
your lord and your king.

And I can only imagine,
hope and pray,
that now you sit on high and sing,
your songs of joy and praise
at having gained the prize.

I believe that God welcomed you
into the bright glory of his love,
and that he embraced your soul
in His everlasting touch.

And when upon His face
you first gazed
I believe you heard him say
"well done, thou good faithful servant."

© Francisco G. Rodriquez, 2012

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