....

when you return you may not find the same face
you have a portrait of, in your mind
her eyes may have lost their luster,
her lips that always used to draw a smile
may be arched in half nostalgic frown
her head persistently shaking not in lament,
you must understand, aging takes toll,
it cannot be helped, sometimes

you wont be able to hold her hands, as soft
as they were, nor as gentle, as firm
hers would be trembling when you return
withered with the prayers she sang
for years, every night she spent
dreamless yet,  hoping still

she will not sing you the song, she promised
to welcome you home with, words
would have changed their meanings, then
or she may have simply forgotten
as were her cries muffled, in between
occasional calls and mindless ramblings

but when you return, you will find
pieces of your past hanging on her wall,
she tried to hold together, with every drop
of sadness drowned in visions of a union
imagined,  distant, but to her
it was the only thing real

if you return

there may not be time left to share
morrows may have been wasted

but yesterdays would have remained
as she had...waiting...