"My body is old; my hair is brittle at worst.  And some think of me

cursed. "  She said


But my swift doubt deemed her manner as rehearsed

Yet here again, wrong was I to judge an impression at first

For then she voiced great wisdom

Well versed


She told me how she had nurtured her children

And now they had grown

Continued on about the home she had known

The one she worked most of her life

To own

She spoke of her years, be them most in the past

Of time lapsed and prime youth and all that she had regretfully missed

Eight lives of glass darkly she had foolishly kissed

"Listen to me son."  She said with a squeeze of my wrist

"Right wisdom comes once but a bit, in the brisk time we exist.

    Listen closely, I most emphatically insist. "

      And what she told me, with fever in her midst, was this


"Music and Art is what sets us apart.

    For we as beings vividly see things.

      So no matter the stretch nor tick ‘til I depart, be it hours or years impart,

        whatever the measure remaining in my heart,

          I shall let it be lead by music and art.

            The world is lush of operas and playwrights and artists all trying..."

Said with a crack in her voice and passion inspiring

   "You do one thing for me above all else defying;

    Enjoy that what sets us apart.  Long before, your last day ‘til dying."


"Let yourself live in theaters and show.

   Paint it in black reds and leopards and white shades of snow.

     All that we as beings bestow.

       My gift to you boy is to help you to grow with all of my missed days ago

         And all that I wish, is for you to take this.

            It is all that I know. "







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