Watching Hills Go By She was away from where her soul lives, searching for memories - often lost. Entangled mind of past and fantasy: “Lying on a bus floor”, she said “Watching hills go by - a good day.” Would she return, I know not. To hold ones breath all day, too much. I wonder if she who made my blood flow, is hers about to stop? The nurse chats - I’ll know more soon. Feelings surge, washing in. washed out. I sense God’s presence His peace - sufficient. I wait. On the verge of grief, at loss. Memories come stalking on the unknown time of death. Knowing soon, never when. Yet love, in awaiting loss, creates treasure from moments - a memories delight. Powerless I watch. She searches on till death awakes for her, a new dawn.
© Craig A Roberts, 2020