The Passing

The Passing

I’m away now, to the land of peace and honey.
Where wealth, stealth and things have no meaning.
Where beauty bares its nakedness
And stillness envelopes my soul.

My wooden cradle lined with silk
Will be a fitting vessel for my final farewell.
For when I close my eyes and beat my last beat,
I will dance my merry mind into everlasting enlightenment.

Flowers will interrupt the greyness of my gravel blanket.
Love and time will be chiselled into stone
And sorrow will sit by me on occasion
With eyes dripping sadness into soil.

The only shroud will be that which cloaks your mind.
I am not gone, I have not left you.
I am the first daffodil in February.
The cherry blossom breeze.

I am the air you breathe.
The memories you have molded of me.
The musical catharsis of a favorite melody.
The summer sea seducing you with its watery kiss.

Look around.
I am not gone.
I have not left you.

I am the child’s Christmas morning joy.
The very first snowflake.
The graceful silent dancing swan.

I had to surrender.
It was my greatest accomplishment.
Letting go.
Set me free.

To finally see.
The futility in worry.
When beauty surrounds and awaits us.

By Adele Leahy