Gold Years Old

I’m counting my riches as you lay at the mercy of feebleness

Your frail appearance is a treasure box containing my fondest memories

The hands that you can barely lift were once my compass; you always used them to direct my eyes to specific parts of the breathtaking landscape that surrounded our road trips

I’m lost in the lines on your face that resemble the routes we travelled. Perhaps wrinkles are indeed a trail of one’s journey, for yours are a wonder to look at

Your drained eyes are the binoculars from which I could always view life’s rainbow; looking at your worn out skin I see the blanket on which my fears have rested

Your smile reveals fewer teeth, but nothing is missing from the radiance that still slides down its curve

I have often passed my dreams onto you for safe-keeping, knowing that you would wrap them in the secure cloth of your faith

Your inability to walk is a humbling reminder of the strength you used to make others stand. Never a fan of the spotlight, but the hearts you have touched illuminate you either way

Your voice is softer now and your speech much slower,a testimony of your gentle nature and patience over the years. It is perhaps this that has taught us how to handle your fragile frame

You possess a selfless kind of wisdom that collaborated with love to turn students into teachers

Do not worry about your memory loss, we are carrying your story now. Your life has left us with a bookshelf of tales that we will carry into the promise of forever

Fatigue has made a home in your body yet I can’t help but see a piece of the earth’s gold; reminiscing on the wealth I have collected from your every breath.

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