Her eyes...

Her eyes tell a different story.

While she speaks in courage and strength,

her eyes betray her.

They tell me she trembles at night

when she sleeps awake, waiting…

Her frail infant in her arms

for yet another moment in the weeks,

between the fall into the despair

from the light of the joy of being.

She does not move

for fear of shattering the peace,

for fear of falling again.

The days and nights are one and the same

and time is measured by changing faces,

by bells and incidents, in ups and downs.

Today is a better day

for not being worse than yesterday,

but there is still tomorrow.

It is tomorrow she fears

because she knows yesterday.

Her joy on holding him

screams at her fear of losing him

and she is torn apart in loving,

pushing away to stay the pain.

So she cries tears of joy,

tears of unbearable sadness,

while sleeping awake, waiting…

And the day will come

when he leaves and the pain ends,

and the fear is changed,

a new light shines within.

Where he ends that wondrous day

will be the difference

between the joy of being,

and the joy of having known,

measured by the distances

along the way.

And though she will speak

in courage and in strength,

her eyes will betray her,

while she sleeps awake ever waiting,

crying tears of unbearable sadness and joy.