Some Days

The Caregiver Poet

Some days arrive

with heavy hands,

A quiet weight

we didn’t plan.

Still some light

slips through the seams

soft as breath

Mostly unseen.

Nothing here is “wrong,”

every sorrow has a song.

Even grief

That hollow space,

holds a kind of

tender grace.

We wake, we ache,

we carry on,

And not because

The pain is gone

but just because,

beneath it all,

life still answers

when we call.

A cup of warmth,

The passing breeze,

small mercies offered

Wrapped in ease.

It’s in these moments,

clear and true,

the miracle greets

and touches you.

Cloudia Charters