A Life, So Full

So cold, so lifeless
No sign of ever having been
Just there, so still.

I remember the stories that mouth would tell.
Of wars fought long ago.
Of good times growing up. And sad.
And what it was like getting old. And slow.

Those hands were once strong, laboring hands.
Lifting, pulling, throwing things.
They were always busy. And teaching.
Showing the importance of work. And responsibility.

His eyes, now closed, were once so full of life.
They saw so much, along the way.
Pain and suffering. And joy.
Laughter and love. And loss.

His spirit is finally with the One who made him.
The One he spoke of, so often.
He would smile. And sigh.
He's home now. And happy.

A life, so full.
He gave, as he was given.
At last, he can rest.