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Illusion of Aging
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Love Frightened, she called for help
to her child..
for she feared
that overnight
she was
turning
into a skeleton
It's just a bad
dream.. her
child replied.
Every day your
soul grows more
radiant..
as Godward it grows.
If you do
me predecease,
it will be we who
are in prison left,
bereft.
Very good poem. I have been wondering why the concept of aging bothers me so much. I am not afraid of dying, but the thought of becoming a burden to others by being unable to care for myself. ~Jan