When you were in the hospital and on death’s doorstep,

there was music playing, as I held your hand

it was not the music of the next life

but the music of this life, of peace

and of not giving in.


I loved how you encouraged the doctors

spoke to the young man, cleaning

your room. Investing hours, treating people

with dignity, you brought light

to everyone that you met

more than a warrior

you were a queen

of hope.

And you sang

softly to me

without even

realizing it.

I was never so proud of you,

and your serenade is forever

etched in my mind.


Note: This is looking back. She is doing very well now.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”

15 thoughts on “Serenade

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