Rosebud
.
You were already gone when I met you, a pink rosebud on a satin pillow. By days end, you were wrapped in a thousand tears and buried in a silent place.
Later there was a wildness behind your mother's eyes, like the sky before an autumn storm. She spoke in a calm voice, but in the distance, dry leaves rattled in the wind. The sky was heavy with dark clouds and there was a scent of rain in the air.
That was years ago. She still thinks of you every day, whether she speaks of you or not. Even for me, despite our brief encounter, I think of you more often than you would imagine.
You were already gone when I met you, a pink rosebud on a satin pillow. By days end, you were wrapped in a thousand tears and buried in a silent place.
Later there was a wildness behind your mother's eyes, like the sky before an autumn storm. She spoke in a calm voice, but in the distance, dry leaves rattled in the wind. The sky was heavy with dark clouds and there was a scent of rain in the air.
That was years ago. She still thinks of you every day, whether she speaks of you or not. Even for me, despite our brief encounter, I think of you more often than you would imagine.
posted by Meg at
3:46 AM
4 Comments:
Beautiful prose and touching sentiments, Meg. You put words to my memories and feelings, as well as your own, perfectly.
Beautiful!
- Nancy from Haughville
Who would know such a little life would leave so many tears? God bless you, little Rosemary. Even though I never really met you, you were well loved.
We know Rosemary blesses us with her spirit in a many ways. We always look for her to reveal her beauty in nature. One of the most apparent, we are convinced, is the butteryfly, not unlike the photo at the end of your precious sentiments. Thank you for remembering our gift from God in such a personal way, as it is easy for us to think of this as our struggle alone.
Post a Comment
<< Home