December 12, 2010

Waiting Room

I opened the door
And there they were
Sitting, waiting patiently,
Some with a vacant stare,

Some with wonderful smiles
And glowing looks of adoration
Others with gentle falling tears
And heartfelt tender commiseration

I could resonate with each of them
Whether it was out of sympathy
I couldn't really tell
But then perhaps it was empathy

A knowing known so well
I invited them through, one by one
And so they came with a smile
Eager to speak, as so many before had done

To pass on their love
To those left behind
To pass on those tender messages
A gift that inside we find

A mother, one night came through
She wanted to speak with her Daughter
To tell her how she cared
That all was forgiven and she loved her

Little things like that
The gentle words, the memories of old
Really do matter deep inside
They help us remain strong and bold

Jennifer Don © 2010

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