In the pages of, luck I fed
When i am living, after I am dead
In my tomorrow, to the words I have said
In the stories, In the history
In the best of all the mystery
be the part of every memory

                                                            Be Alive

I am a wailing infant swaddled in my crib,
warm with love.
I am a playful toddler lying on the pavement with scraped knees,
blind with tears.
I am a running child on the playground at noon,
breathless and free.
I am a defiant teen hunched over on the curb,
hopeless and broken.
I am a wonderstruck bride bathed with white,
full of life.
I am a lonesome wife curled up in an empty bed,
yearning for him.
I am a delighted mother watching my baby drive away,
proud beyond belief.
I am a sorrowful widow standing beside his grave,
abandoned and afraid.
I am a decaying woman holding her first great-grandbaby,
nostalgic but peaceful.
I am a dying elder slipping into the darkness beyond,
eager to rest.
I am
crushed
love-struck
turbulent
shattered
passionate
f­earful
euphoric
anguished
zealous
­ grief-stricken
victorious
**alive