
My Mother, how small
you are becoming
in your earthly color,
as earth recedes,
spirit is rising.
Sadness and joy fill my eyes
as I pray for
the Goddess of Dying
to enfold us in
her knowing arms,
to guide us
with dignity and grace
in our losing of human touch,
no more meeting flesh to flesh...
...and I see my Father
reach his long arm through
to take your hand,
Mother, he is waiting...
tears and rejoicing,
love is united, reunited.
The words trip
over my heart,
tightness filled with
the conflicts of dying,
I do not want
to lose you,
your physical presence...
and I am filled
with happiness
as you move into
the lightness of your being
free of pain
free of limitation
free of the dying sighs of diminishment...
I see you in all your beauty,
a youthful soul with
a wide smile in your eyes,
surrounded by fire red hair,
a quick mind
and the ardor of being.
When you are ready, my heart goes through the portal with you....
(I wrote this poem and created the painting “Passage” when my mother was dying of colon cancer. I showed it to her and she asked me to read the poem at her funeral. It was serendipitous that it came out in 10 verses which I designed into a tablet)
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