Butterfly
Her body now a shell of what used to be.A cocoon of sorts-waiting for her mind to be free.Locked inside of her disease, Alzheimer has no compassion.But like the caterpillar waiting to be released as a butterfly,Her soul will be once again soar with wings spread wide open.If you look deep inside her eyes you can see her stir, waitingto be free of a prison with in herself.As the young girl who is helping her eat –she wonders do yousee me? Or can you not look past the wrinkles, the blank starein my face. Please remember I wasn’t always this way –As the young butterfly hatches and wings dry-her soul stretches.When the butterfly takes flight along with it goes her soul –upover the buildings over the cars up to the tree tops.Soaring up to heaven free from its restraints.So is her soul with that her caged draws it last breath.She to is now free to soar and ride the wind with the butterflies