I Kiss The Hand That Rocks The Cradle

Blind eyes but yet she could still hear.
A fetal position yet she was so dear.
Guard rails on each side of her bed.
She couldn't talk but trusted, instead.

In hush voices we changed her there.
We turned her over with gentle care.
She kissed my hand with angel touch.
At first it was like it didn't mean much.

But later it as I walked my rounds.
The presence of hallowed grounds.
The spirits rejoiced in the peace.
I was set free by her golden fleece.

Nightly I see the suffering and pain.
Sometimes I feel alone in this domain.
But the loneliness is of my own making.
The sundowners are always shaking.

As the night comes so does the void.
Temporary friends that I can't avoid.
Sometimes I feel for the disabled.
I kiss the hand that rocks the cradle.