We had the choice,
To hold you in this world
Your tiny frail frame
Racked by illness
Or let you go, on your Way.
Now the river runs high
As rain mingles with tears.
Into the
earth
Laid gentle
On a bed of
fern leaves,
That which
remained of you
After the
spirit flown.
Your
capstone
A blanket
of red earth
Ready to
receive this gift.
In breath,
out breath
The space
between
Neither Being
nor Non-Being.
At last
something solid!
The tangle
of sorrows and joys
Of this
world
Born of our
own eyes –
And above
it all pinpricks of light
Birth &
death from millions of years ago.
Tonight the rain
Will soak into your grave.
Spirit flown -
The bed by the fire empty.
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