The day you left

On the day you left
I walked the woods to shake the numbness from my bones.
The air sang with a north west wind. Each leaf shone with a rim of rain; sprinkling silver showers with every shift of wind.

It was very much alive and the sun,
Despite the distances of space,
Embraced us with a kiss.

I watched her handiwork unfold;
Each tree the offspring of a thousand love affairs with light.
And underneath, the bluebells washing tides of fragrance on the forest floor.

Such alchemy of light,such sleight of hand,
stealing the substance of the land
To birth a beauty far beyond the dull imagination
of the naked ground.

And when she shone on you that dawn,
flame and brightness caught your hair;
shafts of gold took hold and drew you lightwards
like a shoot departing company of soil.

But still your roots are long and strong and intertwined among our own.
And we will honour you in simple ways; by nurturing the roots of memory,
by living lives more fully than we might,
and in the darkness, always,
seek (and savour)
light.

(C) A McN

A friend's child dies unexpectedly. No explanations make sense and yet their world - though shattered - was far from ended. Life and death are intimately linked. I remember another bereaved parent telling me that after the grief had subsided they came to feel felt they now had one foot in heaven.