From the recording Windows
A 98 year old woman with dementia having a lucid moment before she dies. A woman at peace with her past and no fear of where she is headed.
Feel the sun, taste of rum. Running down the street. Kissing cheeks and aching feet from dancing on the beach. At night I rise above the tide on the lightness of those days. The fragrance comes, taste of rum, my lips kissing your face. When my fingertips run through the sand and reach up for the sun the field of light is all we seek so close, but just out of reach. Now the simple phrases aren’t so clear. I’m left with please and trust. Visions blur, the lives we made, your face fades in the dust. When my fingertips run through the sand I remember everything. Our field of light is beckoning and I’ll kiss your face again.