My body is old; my hair is brittle at worst

And some think of me cursed

She said

But my swift doubt deemed her manner as rehearsed

Yet here again,

Wrong was I to judge an impression at first

For then she voiced great wisdom

Well versed

She told me how she had nurtured her children

And now they had grown

Continued on about the home she had known

The one she worked most of her life

To own

She spoke of her years, be them most in the past

Of time lapsed and prime youth and all that she had regretfully missed

Eight lives of glass darkly she had foolishly kissed

Listen to me son

She said with a squeeze of my wrist

Right wisdom comes once but a bit

In the brisk time we exist

Listen closely

I most emphatically insist  

And what she told me

With fever in her midst

Was this

Music and Art

Is what sets us apart

For we as beings vividly see things

So no matter the stretch nor tick ‘til I depart

Be it hours or years impart

Whatever the measure remaining in my heart

I shall let it be lead by music and art

The world is lush of operas and playwrights and artists all trying

Said with a crack in her voice

and passion inspiring

You do one thing for me

Above all else defying

Enjoy that what sets us apart

Long before

Your last day ‘til dying

Let yourself live in theaters and show

Paint it in black reds and white shades of snow

All that we as beings bestow

My gift to you boy is to help you to grow

With all of my missed days ago

And all that I wish

Is for you to take this

It is all that I know

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