The fireweed reaches
high towards the sky,
trying to part the skies
for one last glimpse
of summer.

The lilac bushes wave
on an amethyst breeze,
coming back round
to bid the season adieu.

And Olive with her
dancing green eyes
breathed a final goodbye,
as Mom with her broken body
and fullness of heart
sat by her side,
singing her peaceful
songs of hallelujah.

It looked like
the frail leading the frail.
But it was really just
love leading love,
because it is often
those who seem most
fragile in this world,
that are most able
to stand strong
with love for others.

The trees turn in
soft golds of symphony,
rustling change
on the leaves.

The sun is kind
with morning light,
reassuring the day
will carry on.

And I seek
the company of
the constant sky,
where I try to unknot
the complicated strings
that are family,
loss and grief,
as I wonder why
is it usually the
daughters of this world
who carry the burden
of sweeping up after
the ashes of others.

How is it they
have not discovered
one of life’s most
beautiful secrets-
Our softness
is what makes
us strong.

The moon phases
in her cyclical song,
the darkness always
chased by the light.

The geese gently
gather in flocks of
feathered Vs,
soon to head south.

And even in their
departure they whisper
a prayer of spring
and the promise
life will always return.

I watch them
take flight as I think
of those dancing green eyes,
and offer my eulogy
to the grace of this world.

May you be loved.
May you be well.
May you be peaceful
and at ease.

May I be loved.
May I be well.
May I be peaceful
and at ease.

May we be loved.
May we be well.
May we be peaceful
and at ease.

There is such
poignant beauty
when sorrow comes,
because joy once
filled that space.

A full moon
is rising.

My heart
remembers love.

And the fireweed
waves on.