The birds call and flit tree to tree
I hear them through the window...
My precious girl Bee is pressed against my legs
As we sit together on the recliner.
Today I have become nausea,
It has consumed my body.
Fatigue plays with nausea; they have made a game of me
That knows no boundaries.
I focus on the softness and warmth of Bee against me,
The softness of her fur in my hands.
I consider the miraculous gifts of her presence and
And all my comforts, for they are gifts from the Lord.
I try to concentrate on the gifts and the love
That God the Father has given me, and not think about
Abilities lost and what has changed.
Bicycles and kayaks hang in the garage, to be
Brought down for others.
Somewhere in the quiet and inactivity
The Lord will show me how, even in this state,
I can serve Him and the people around me.
If being His hands and feet isn't working,
Let me be his Light, Love and Heart in some way
As I endure as best I can.
Waiting for the bad days to pass.
So very tired...
I will now allow myself a nap on the recliner
Bee in her spot, already asleep.
Sleep will soon overwhelm me....
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