.  . .she is the scent before the summer rain.
.  . .she sees beauty in the midst of the pain.
.  . .the offspring of faith in spite of the wraith.
.  . .she hears the song before it's played.
.  . .she doesn't care how much it costs.
.  . .she sees beyond this searing loss.

her face unfolds like a sieve...painting a portrait of the life that she lived. was it that twinkle - those sparks in her eyes that taught me to love without compromise? her crackled hands were such diligent palms. she taught me that love is much more than a psalm. and the growth on her chin that i always looked past showed me that love was intended to last.