It will be a little while

It Will Be A Little While

 

It will be a little while yet

before the parched leaves of sorrow

are swept away by the

winds of time

Garbed in funereal white

Like a silent sentinel

I pay witness

to the frenzied feeding of the flames

Gentling winds

sweep soft ash-rain

over the weeping limbs of the Fig trees

Green becomes grey

Life huddles

Feverish under the mantle of death

Blossoms shiver and fade away

 

 

It will be a little while yet

before the memory of your soft laugh

burgeons fruit

Swaying pendulousy

from the topmost branches

And we shall jump

and glutton ourselves

on its sweet juices

Our misery a distant discordant sound

amidst the laughter

As we feast,

our recollections

shall leave sticky trails

 

It will be a little while…

…yet

 

Bea Turvey

 

I wrote this for my father, but was too distraught to read it at on the day.  The depiction of a funeral pyre is not accurate as we were at a crematorium in England, but the sentiment remains.

Ohm, Shanti Ohm

Jain symbol    Gujarati Prayer for the dead

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