I recognized her familiar gait As she left ambulatory care At Bluewater Health, Once St. Joseph's Hospital. I knew her as a devout care-giver. Her spring showed her hope In the gods within, And faith in her God without. A surety in her higher power. I share her faith crossing bridges, Or waiting for autumn's bulbs To sprout and flower.
The Sisters have retreated To the Mother House, Mission accomplished, No longer caring For the sick and worried.
The civilians marched in, Diagnosing annuities, Giving change.
The Sisters wait for Pentecost, For the whosh and whirl Of expectant miracles They once ministered.