Age of Love

Age of Love

One Woman:

crumpled with age,
silver-gray hair tied back,
face lined from years of worry,
of failing health and mental anguish

bent the corners of her mouth into a smile
as she looked into the fawn-colored young eyes before her.

One Child:

newly born,
soft-skinned and pink,
just opening her tiny eyes to the world,
new lights and sounds and strange people

found the face of her grandmother and smiled
as she squinted into the emerald-hued, wrinkly eyes before her.

That moment burned in time itself,
for it knew no greater love than this:
one old and one new,
and for the first time they stared back into one another's eyes,
their very hearts, beating together as one.

July 25th, 2007
dedicated to my Nanny