This came from years of diabetes
that took a toll on his entire
body...but most obviously on
his eyes.
Most people were unaware of the
extent of his vision loss.
Friends would often have to
speak to him before he knew
them if they met unexpectedly.
His love of reading was sorely
tried as even books taunted
him with their elusive print.
Dad had several laser surgeries,
the last one just months before
he passed away in 2005.
We suspect this is the last
poem he ever wrote, written
as he anticipated
a dreaded procedure with an
unknown result.
Gentle Touch
It was just a fragile rosebud,
a small point of color bright,
with its petals tightly furled,
like a cone.
And before me lay the future,
hidden from my human sight
with its burdens
and its blessings still unknown.
All the beauty of the flower
is contained within the bud,
Its potential holds a
glory still untold.
Only dewdrops of the morning,
and the warmth of noonday sun
hold the power that small
flower to unfold.
Like the flower the thin petals
of my life,
so tightly furled,
tear when I attempt them to unfold,
for although I try so gent'ly to
unwrap life's fragile fronds
my best efforts end
with a sad story told.
But the hand that made the flower,
and the breath
that breathes the dew
has the touch to
quietly unwrap a flower.
Tis that hand that holds my future,
so I'll trust Him when I cannot see;
Safe I am when I am resting in His power.
So I'll trust Him with the future,
be it dark or be it bright
For His way is good
no matter where it goes;
For the hand that leads me gently,
as I walk the road of life
Is the hand of Him that
opens up the rose.
GTS
May your life be opened
gently by The One who
knows you well.
May your beauty be exposed
as that of a perfect rose.
Your Friend,
♥♥Becky K.♥♥
