River of Light
From her cells were your cells formed.
From her tissues and blood you were born.
Your life was sustained by her milk;
she cared for you healthy or ill.
She taught you in myriad ways,
which you’ll keep to the end of your days.
In some way you don’t understand,
she’s next to you holding your hand.
This person you really don’t know
knew you better than she’d ever show.
So how can she just disappear?
Disappear as if never here.
How can her soul cease to be,
just because from her body she’s free?
How can the sun fail to rise?
She’s as real as the air and the skies!
You sense that there’s been a mistake –
a dream from which you must wake.
They assure you she’s gone on above
and in time you’ll join her in love.
But you flounder in disbelief
and their comforting gives no relief.
She’s gone but still she is near,
as if she will soon reappear.
But then suddenly something makes sense:
her essence is not a pretence.
Like a river of light through your mind
her spirit is you and your kind.
Her soul is your soul and your child’s;
the root and the branch reconciled.
When she died, naught was lost but the flesh,
for life passes one to the next.