She is gone now- to that place of shadow. That place of waiting. A place that requires trust on the part of those left behind. Trust that one day shadow will dissolve in blinding Light. But that day must remain sealed for a time to come.

I wrote a small poem this morning, in the not knowing interval between life’s promise and death’s finality.

“Dips and peaks.
Black and white.
All of the stereotypes change with a breath, and death is a surety- set in concrete, and sandblasted by hope deferred.”

How little did I know.

One thought on “Yizkor

  1. Rest Eternal grant unto her, O Lord, and let light perpetual shine upon her.Memory Eternaland may God’s mercy enfold and keep you through this time.

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