From my rocking
chair, now frail, old & grey,
I wend my
journey; now go on my wary way,
I go searching
for that person that I call me,
But I´m seeking
the person who I used to be.
I am looking for
my soul in its original form,
Over fields &
mountains where the sky is torn,
Paths, roads
& byways, of my lingering long life,
Through the
child, maid, mother & faithful wife.
Where´s she gone,
the one who gave all her best?
To parents,
husband & those babes at her breast,
Where is that
person, she once thought she knew?
They all dipped
& sipped from her & away they flew.
Raised, worked,
loved, given of herself & all she had,
Loving all in her
wake & she never dared to be bad,
By life &
love, she felt beaten, very tired & whipped,
Left now alone,
frail & of her identity sorely stripped.
Deep within
herself & within the deep, dead of night,
She found the
path she knew, the one that was right,
Into the arms of
Angels, she walked her way back home,
Knowing that life
was a journey she had travelled alone.
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