One More Day

I was told of the young woman Who at twenty must decide How little does she need from The promise of a life, How little does she need From a damaged body, To see, to hear, to breathe To stay, to feel, to believe That the one more day bringing The warmth of sunlight on her face The sound of rain, the moisture in the air Is worth the certainty of a life where She will never feel the earth under her feet Nor the touch of a kitten’s soft Paw in her hand. I was told of that young woman I say a metta for her and Whatever her choice I understand