GOING HOME
We recited poetry
as she lay in the comfort
of her
resting garden,
one's of pussy cats
and Songs of
Solomon;
and no longer in doubt
of her soul's continuation
beyond
her body
her wretching flesh was
calmed.
And, with the calming of her
flesh
she began to let the temple
crumble
as I heard the words that
only
ANGELSsing, come forth
from her
parched lips.
"The doors are open
and
JESUS is coming-
I'm
almost ready
...but my work is not
yet done."
With the wrestling of this
question:
"What will become of
those
who remain?"
the simple
acknowledgement
that she would be
missed
and that her work was now
completed,
she agreed to
sleep,
for one last time,
and
promised to
WELCOME
me
on the other
side...
For Grammie "C"
With
Love
*1999-RAE*
AUNT JAN & THE
FUNERAL
DRIFT HOME
Email: madpenpal@hotmail.com
