For She
She may be my mother
Your sister
Her aunt
His wife
Interminably a best friend.
Acquainted pronouncements of a women I know
God does not give you anything you cannot handle.
For she is astute
For she
Is impervious
Exceedingly strong.
Her tender soul glistens through softly
Almost as if you unknowingly inhaled a bushel of lavender.
Lavender so awakening
Yet comforting, as to a mother’s touch.
She is selfless, simply kind.
Thursday morning
I had a disfavor for Thursday mornings.
Reverberations of ringing attend to my ear
Unspoken words, somehow said it all.
Fearful silence lived that day
Although it was merely a moment.
She never once feared her being
Only fear for those she loved dearly
Did I mention she always wore pink?
Pink truly was never her most complimenting color.
As questionable contemplations hostage my mind
A being saturated with beauty from the unseen depths of existence
Was this deserving of such, a woman of this boundless pedestal?
For a wise woman once said, God does not give you anything you cannot handle
The love she has cradled hearts with could never declare in such disregards.
My eyes now unblemished
Thinking pink fitted, quite well.
Complimenting at once
Fetching.
On a cool December day, air crisp
An old friend spoke with cunning words of wit
Admiration.
It is not about deserving
It is about life
A life worth living.
For she is a survivor among all her greatness, just as the sun will always rise
And the sun will always set.
Her obstacles were nothing but a mere flight
A flight with Godspeed, she will always land.
Whether it may be on ground
Whether it may be above the white angelic clouds.
She will eternally live in your cradled heart
She lived life, life did not live her.
She marks a smile upon your soul as it dances from her presence
For she will always be a survivor
A fighter.
2014 © J.D Marcano All Rights Reserved
October 19th of 2014
Dedicated to The Well Worship Center & all the lovely souls who graced their presence on this day.
To all the ladies in pink who have fought, who will keep fighting, to their family & friends.
Lastly to my Mother, “for you are what I dream I may only aspire (J.D. Marcano).”
God Bless
(Play Media to the right, may only show video at beginning of story)