For Nana.
You can never be sure of when you will go
You can always be sure that you will go.
And while every breath can still be your last
What reason is that to stop having a blast?
A woman so central, a woman so strong
A woman with whom we all feel
And fear
And wept.
She brought us all life, and also brought pain
Not because she was mean... but simply human.
Our hearts ached because we did not understand
The whys and hows of where she came to be.
I sat there, wondering myself of breath, of cheer, of death...
I was reminded of a man that I once saw.
His eyes would never open again
As his brother wept in the next room.
Such a gentle man,
And yet, I never took the time to state such matters.
I cried and stormed and cursed myself blue
Too many hues and shades of angry
He taught me only once can it ever be too late.
I can suffocate on my fear
Tearing my voice from the sky
Too shy to say what my heart knew dear.
And she confirmed what I knew so long ago.
Caution thrown to the wind
Suffice to say...
This time my words would not come too late.
So, gentle ones, ask yourself if every day is enough?
Are you too tough to realize your time will come?
Sun shines, sun falls and sun rises
This much you can gamble upon
So why should there always be tomorrow’s time?
When you are standing in the present breathing into the past?
So fast it arrives
So fast it travels by.
We all have our ideas.
Our thoughts and our dreams.
Her pain was mine, her pain was yours.
Turn that life into growth.
Be worthy to quote;
Smile, laugh, celebrate where this woman led you.
And learn.
Oh, learn gentle ones...
That it can only be too late...
Once...
Chris Loflin
30 Jan 2008
I wrote this for my Nana's memorial service. Love you!
