GLIMPSE OF GLORY.

in memory of Hellen Zeanah Macon Cherner

The day before my grandmother died,
the glare of reflected sunlight
on the window of her hospital room
was so bright that I had to look away.

She gazed at the clock on the wall,
at my two-year-old playing beside her
on the bed, and her face lit up.

When she spoke she was a nurse again,
contented in her place of work,
her soft voice dispensing lovingkindness.

I'd been thinking she was getting better.
I know now it was the opposite-
her spirit was readying for the infinite.