I’m so tired. Yes, even me.
There is a spirit of weariness,
Over the whole of this house.
We mourn and become saddened,
We forget to eat and starve,
We lie awake and do not rest.
Coming together before you,
We gather around your bed,
Tears dampening our sullen faces,
But you are not there.
You’re riding your bicycle,
Down an old country road.
You’re singing glad songs,
As you explore main street.
You’re repairing that old car,
That always fought back.
To you, we are shadows,
Fading images existing in contradiction.
We are, at the same time,
Those whom you once knew,
And those you will yet meet.
Forgive us our sadness,
Forgive us our pity,
Forgive us the many tears,
We rain down on your joy.
Unaware of your own tragic state,
Your legs still run for you,
Your voice still rings for you,
Your hands still grasp for you,
The sun still shines for you.