This is what my random opening to a page this morning brought me, so poignant given Jays Dads passing: Did someone say that there would be an end, An end, Oh, and end, to love and mourning?. . . Now the dead move through all of us still glowing, Mother and child, lover and lover mated, And wound and bound together and enflowing. What has been plaited cannot be unplaited-- Only the strands grow richer with each loss And memory makes kings and queens of us. Dark into light, light into darkness, spin. When all the birds have flown to some real haven, We who find shelter in the warmth within, Listen, and feel new-cherished, new forgiven, As the lost human voices speak through us and blend Our complex love, our mourning without end. --from All Souls by May Sarton
Posted on: Wed, 05 Mar 2014 15:23:59 +0000
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