She Left

She left little gifts planted in people for me,
just so I would know exactly what she felt.

It wasn’t an obvious sort of thing, as it could,
but it sure was a surprise to hear it out loud.

A bank officer, a financial planner, a secretary,
the dentist, the receptionist, the insurance agent.

They all said the same thing, and it isn’t important
I say it here, just know gems fell from their mouths.

I would, I suppose, have expected nothing less,
such would only have come from heaven’s ways.

She left with little fanfare, in less than 8 hours,
tubes helped her breathe, she knew when to go.s w

This my younger brother and sister don’t know,
this is left to me to explain, never expecting it.

I always knew it would be a rushed surprise,
she was taken aback so fast God called her Home.

But she was done, just as I will be and you will be,
if we are not already done, the word not yet here.

So we breathe and remember and remember
to breathe; this is what mother’s actually teach.

Of course, we forget, just like car keys on the
table, the test left behind, our flies left open.

Little nudges and reminders, a word of caution,
and so every birthday card I forgot reminds me.

We are golden light and soul blue harmonies,
in the end the bouquets are just metaphors.

Tomorrow is a surgery for another friend,
Eric left last summer without warning at all.

So we lie like rubber dolls in intensive care,
our mouths agape, nothing to say in the end.

Leaving in the arms of the Beloved we leave
our soul’s name a breath written on our brow.

We are infected with silences unheard,
yet is a voice heard on the road to Bethany.

It is there I shall lay spray her ashes.

© John Kadela