To the woman whose stare had rocked me cold

Okwy, I wrote this dirge for your mum. In the times I encountered her, I was markedly humbled by her searching gaze. I still think of her. May her soul rest on...

There was no line of grey across your hair

The sound of your voice had lacked no life

Alas! You had left us all without a strife.

Death had ’mbraced you tight…into his lair

Like a muffled sunflower that once was fair

And now you are still, cold and somewhere safe

Until the day your coffin shall bare you

From the morgue and in the long brown hearse through

The stony streets that leads to the church

Where your stare rocked me cold and stony blue

. 

Now, you know no more the cares of this plane

For this is the mound beneath where you sleep..

The beads in my hands, I'll pray them for you

That you may sleep on in peace till you wake.

. 

Your birth was the first you did

and death became your final deed.

A psalm will be said; salient and silent

For the children you bore.

A corner of my thoughts, comfy and cozy

will hold the memories of you.

Rest in the Lord and watch us from up

We that are down will keep you in mind.

 

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Heavy with grief, this one. The impression is that the departed left prematurely. The speaker is stricken, but carries out the last rituals solemnly. What else can be said? We all must face it, in ourselves and in those we love. We can only have faith that death is not finality.

[Geo Lawrence]

Thank you kind sir for your words. Indeed, her passing was very painful.