Fade and Blur

The frozen drizzle fell upon the old snow
   Mounds and mounds like white waves frozen in place.
But we sit, this morning in your dry, warm room;
Storm-prone nature fading into a blur.
You don't speak to me.
Sometimes you'll look me in the eye and smile.
A resident passes by and waves; you weakly wave back.
Your foot moves in time to the background music.
You are fading; life is passing in a blur.

Slowly, relentlessly, the blur becomes a fog.
You no longer look at me or wave to passersby.
Your life fades away.
Then the fog clears and life comes into sharp focus.
Your soul soars on eagle's wings.

©2011, John A. Mills