Get up and Gone

 

I remember when my uncle, with watery eyes,

Told me how his get up and go

Had got up and gone.

We were looking at the framed photo of his wife,

40 years together, and now only one.

His shoulders shook, a man once so strong,

Used to laughter, drinks and quick with a quip or joke.

 

And I remember when I too lost sight of the sun,

My vision blurred, tears in early morn,

All hope seemed dead, the future blank and dark,

Each day a struggle of trying not to slip,

But hanging on to life buoys, holding by my nails,

In fear and shaking, all my strength was torn.

 

But even as we take the punches to the gut,

Our bodies hold up stronger than we dare.

Life’s still life, although we move no more,

And slowly, seeds of hope when watered by our tears,

Begin to grow small shoots of life which hold the light.

Before we know it, shadows fade away,

Despite all evidence against, love begins to break through.

Giving, loving, feeling every day,

Gives somehow sense of something new and true.