He sat with dreams of going home ... (A Senior Forum Entry) |
Homeward Bound ** Image ID #1981868 Unavailable ** He sat with dreams of going home staring through the window. He wondered at the need to roam that moved him long ago. He closed his eyes and he could see the shamrock fields so bright, the rolling hills of greenery that sparkled in the light. He inhaled deep. A morning mist carried the sea to him in tiny drops, a gentle kiss, tossed on a breeze's whim. He heard the heart of Ireland as childhood tunes returned like waves upon a Gaelic strand; a rhythm early learned. He felt the tears come in his eyes. He'd waited much too long. This illness would be his demise; he was no longer strong. A wracking cough made him aware death's angel was quite near. His final thoughts, an Irish prayer. The end came without fear. He felt the grip of death's cold hand that pulled him from the world yet he could sense the light expand as stars around him swirled. A veil of brightness seemed to fill with shapes he thought he knew. A cottage sat upon a hill. Could this mirage be true? He saw a familiar weathered lane, a path of darkened loam. No angels needed to explain – for he was going home. An entry for March round of "SENIOR CENTER FORUM" Prompt: Must use the word "Ireland" Thank you for taking time to read my words. I would appreciate it if you took a moment and left a comment. Your reaction, impressions, criticisms, - yes, even praise - are all equally welcome. |