It’s a year…

 It’s a year since you died and still you are with me.
As your body faded over the months,
something else grew clearer:
your essence, stripped of its cover,
the steady burn of love at the heart of you.
Seeing it in you, I must recognise it in me;
I am your child and you live within me still.
And I am content now to find it so

It’s a year since you died and still you are with me.
The two babies I met yesterday,
were your babies, and you were full of wonder;
their two mothers, devotedly dispensing love,
were your daughters and you were loving them.
In your life you loved indiscriminately.
I am your child and your essence is within me
And I am content now to find it so

 It’s a year since you died and still you are with me.
At yesterday evening’s birthday picnic
your hands brought out food to share
your forethought brought cutlery to use
and your voice invited people to partake.
You sat in the sunshine with us all,
recognising goodness without favour.
I am your child and your love runs through me.
I am content now to find it so.

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