The substance

Lying on a couch,
popcorn fed,
with my granddaughters
engrossed in a movie,
young and tender
snuggling next to me.

These simple things,
these times,
that pass by,
that pass,
are not lost,
they remain with me.

They are the substance
beyond frailty.

They are the joy that
sustains me and the
Lembas bread that
feeds me
on my Way.

Then my granddaughter
touches my face as curiosity
as connection, for she is two,
and she smiles at me,
for she knows I am there,
and I am alive,
lying on the couch
next to her.