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Silent Angel

A woman dressed all in black,
walked alone down a broken path.
Her hair was a mess,
and her face foretold her distress.
I walked up towards her,
and asked what was the matter.
She replied through weary eyes,
“I’ve been climbin for sixty years,
up this never endin latter.
It has never been easy,
for it has always been a struggle.
Here I am,
holding this woman’s hand,
whom I’ve never met.
Letting her speak,
listening with open ears,
as her story unraveled.
“I thank God,
and begin to pray,
for each time I live to see another day.
Many times I thought of givin up.
For it has been half empty inside my little ol cup.”
She told me of the many years that have been unkind,
and the memories she would relive and rewind.
But never did God lead her blind.




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