I look up from the dirt,
to see the familiar hem of her skirt,
the same color as the sky.
the same color as the sky.
It's billowing in the wind,
around the tiny frame of our child,
full of giggles and smiles.
They have come to the field to greet me.
Laying my eyes upon them,
at the end of this wearying day,
fills me with so much joy,
that my sun leathered face,
is reconfigured with a broad smile,
and a single glistening tear,
escapes from its duct,
traveling the deep crevasses of my face,
like a stream running down a rocky mountain.
I reach out to them,
as they make their way toward me.
I long to feel their loving embrace,
knowing it will relieve the pain,
in this old arthritic body,
pain built up over a lifetime of hard work.
Looking into the face of my lovely wife,
is like looking into the sun,
her gentle face glowing with her warm smile,
her golden hair flowing free in the breeze.
The closer they get,
the brighter the light becomes.
All pain, all weariness, all loneliness,
is drained from me,
purified by this brilliant light.
They have finally closed the distance,
accepting and returning my eager embrace.
I lift my child into my arms,
and take my wife's hand,
for the first time,
since the labors of birth,
took both their lives,
thirty-seven long years ago.
Reunited at last,
we walk together,
hand in hand,
into the beckoning light.
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