Observation
Whispers in Time
As parents age, they drift away,
Some in silence, some in sway.
Some are gone before we know,
Some just fade, soft and slow.
Once your voice was loud and free,
Now it speaks in quiet peace to me.
Yet in this hush, I understand,
Each moment now is gold in hand.
For when hearts are far, we raise our voice,
But near the end, the quiet’s choice.
No need for words, no need for sound,
Just sitting close, with love unbound.