Divine until she leaves—
there is no better word
to describe how gracious
she was in how she rejoiced
in living. She took perceptual
journeys without psychedelic
drugs and could see the light
of stars before they shone,
talked to baby robins in their eggs
before they hatched, and witnessed
nasturtiums before they unfurled.
Her naked eyes saw the essence
of things with awe and wonderment.
She sang with singing nightingales,
and was covered in cosmic dust.
We lived harmoniously as the black
and white keys on a Steinway piano.
She untied my knots before I knew
they were tied. In the end, all we have
is her breath of life. But, oh—her breath
was lined with a texture of gossamer wings.
She reminded all of us to not be afraid.
Those of us who have led a life well lived
have nothing to fear. We may all meet again
on the journey to somewhere somehow.