Out Goes the Light
© 2006 Chase Andrew Jedick
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She said a prayer for me, before she went to bed.
She said a prayer for me. She said it in her head.
And maybe I laughed when she related this habit;
But deep down I thought, it can’t hurt me to have it.
And from time to time she’d cry
For the love of a friend who’d died.
She’d wipe away her quiet tears,
And she’d never let me fear.
Perhaps you traveled there late in the night,
When you’d said your prayers and turned out the light.
Perhaps you went there to see your friend—
To see the man you loved once again.
When you awoke, did you sometimes say
A fleeting prayer you quickly tucked away?
A noble and loving mind, it too quickly blankly grins.
A noble and loving mind, it too quickly blankly grins,
When death conspires with pink flesh in a blow of autumn’s wind.
And so it was, and so it went in time rarely guarded.
Now I’ll have those moments back, those moments I’ve discarded.
The thief’s army marched quickly for its prize—
It fought for the hopes she had and the glimmer in her eyes.
So retreat she did, as retreat we all must.
But I know where she hid, while preparing for dust—
In that beautiful place she visited at night,
In that place where her mind journeyed when she turned out the lights.
And in remembrance, looking at the flowered tree that I planted in the yard for her to see,
I am struck by comfort as I breathe the air, knowing now of her rightfully answered prayer.
She was a deserving soul, not one truer.
But I’m still here, just now one prayer fewer.
© 2006
Chase Andrew Jedick