And so it came to pass again, that
You were laid to rest on a cool but
Sunny Monday afternoon in the
Breast of Thornhill’s gaze.
As we made for Ilex and it’s verdant
Pasture of uncut and long fronds of
Life and death, we are led to your
Final resting place, the place picked
Not by us, but by you and your new world I sense.
The witness, standing, bowed head, offset
By his red stranded collars, awaits us, following
His instructions on what we do.
The bronze cocoon, your last piece of
Earthly presence now holds you mortal.
I step forward and scatter your life and death
To its desperate conclusion.
On the soils of Ilex in front of the bowed Yew
Watched over, by two solitary roses and the pinkened
Angel who now accompany you for a time.
Lastly you rest with your husband’s hand
As he finishes the rite to you.
I recite that poem again and father’s hat
Dismounts his oldened head but strengthened mind.
You now rest, a greyish glow on the grass of Gaia,
Soon, I am told you will be at one again
With the soul of her, as she washes you down
Into her keeping, and another will arrive
And take your place.
This place now resounds to a tuned
Link to the realms of higher life, of which
You are now a part.
February 26th, 2002