The Opposite of Fading

By Niall Twohig

Aislynn chose you, Ma,

as one of her three items.

Wise choice!

I gave her that old photo,

faded now as testament to the years.

In inverse proportion,

your Spirit becomes more lucid,

crystal clear,

as old masks fade

or are ripped away

by time passing

by sunrise after sunrise

by gravity and work

and work

and work

and choices (unwise and wise)

and loss and gain

and loss again

and Grace.

All of this has worn away the edges,

broken what need

and needn’t be broken,

to reveal You

The same You

came to my bedside

as a sick boy—

You put aside your selves,

your schedules,

to nurse me to health.

Through feverish fogs

and tummy aches

I saw you

(I see you still):

The Healer,

The Nurse.

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