The garden on my window sill is full of flowers-
lilacs, blue bells, peonies, blooming in the sun.
My grandma loves them with all her heart.
She is waiting for them to bloom. She says one day
they'll be bigger than the sun, and her dog likes to
sit underneath them, watching them like a good
dog does. Grandma loves her dog and her flowers
equally. He is also soaking in rays. Grandma
sings like the blue jays outside, and everyone is happy.
The sky is blue and full of light. Which is like
my neighbor when she is full of smiles, and helping
each other, her rays spreading outward to the world,
one single ray at a time. The light is my shield.
I sit in the rocking chair, and rock back and forth,
listening to the sound of my Grandma's singing.
Even the sound of the rocking chair sounds like
singing-back and forth, back and forth, I rock around
the clock. My Grandpa made the rocking chair
back when he was a little boy in WWII, singing
songs of peace and war. Tomorrow, he is coming
home from the hospital, carrying battle scars,
and telling us stories of times long past.