[Eadha Deora]

Leaning down over the open earth,
I see a shell, delicate and intricate
but now carefully discarded and disposed of,
the huddled black figures around the hole,
fencing it in with sobs and prayers;

I am outside them all,
encircling their grief without hindrance,
like the cat calls her kittens to herself,
low murmurs and purrs, coaxing them
beyond the confusion and dissolution they
feel so readily surrounding them,
strangers even to themselves.
But all I feel is joy!

This was good, this living lived itself well.

Joy to see their faces once more,
even though contorted with tears, for
once more I am with them and free
enough to see into their hearts all
the love I blessed on them now
pouring forth like rain from the rivers
to mother me back into rest.

[Vorcla]

Originally Posted by Eadha Deora;

Joy to see their faces once more,
even though contorted with tears, for
once more I am with them and free
enough to see into their hearts all
the love I blessed on them now
pouring forth like rain from the rivers
to mother me back into rest.

Gaaahhh! What a wonderful image. This hits close to home for me; I've lost a number of people close to me the past couple of years. I'm hoping they were there as well.

Jenn, this is terrific. A nice, fresh take on the idea of the afterlife. And not at all spooky or morbid. I like this a lot.

[Eadha Deora]

another friend of mine said that it was "gentle" ... and in some ways, innocent, I think. Innocent in the sense of clear-conscienced, that at the end, life was said to have been lived well. What I want to be able to say anyway.