"Mommy, when will you die?"
My four year old asked.
And so I sat-stunned.
For an answer, I grasped.

"When I'm ninety-nine,
And you're sixty-five,"
"You mean, Mama, til then
You'll still be alive??"

"But I'd rather be,
The first one to go,
I couldn't bear life,
Without you, you know."

"Oh darling, my love.
My precious, my life,
Only our Lord will decide
When we die."

I tried to assure her
Our love transcends time,
A Mother, her child,
A love so divine.

"We'll both join God
Eventually, love"
I tried to convey,
All the wonders above.

"You must know wholeheartedly,"
I begged her, "believe"!
Your Mother adores you,
And never will leave.

That together, regardless,
We're forever entwined,
And throughout this life,
This comfort you'll find.

So when will I die?
Dear, I just don't know,
But a certainty lives,
How I love you so.

Copyright^© Karen O'Connor
Kaorose@cs.com