miracle   the world began to turn more slowly,   the sky settled like fog in the treetops,   the path seemed to rise beneath her feet,   the bird song was harder to hear.   then he began his slow leaving,   and she attended him,   and she prayed for him,   and his passing was very good.   only then she noticed her own hurt,   in the ache of her hands, her head, her heart,   in the new silence of her home,   in the cruel silence of her piano.   then one fine day, her soul heard the music,   the fog lifted, and the birds began to sing again.

to mother, mourning her husband's passing and the loss of her music. then celebrating the gift of its return.

picture "hermit thrush song 3" by Lang Elliott

1journey.net     oct 2005 elias