I stare at his body, I think I still see a whisper of breath, even though I know in my heart,that his body is done. His spirit lingers, I moan like a call of my spirit to the others in the procession that will take his eternal spirit into that realm that seems so far away but is near . I can feel the membrane that separates one from the other now..
Death is a touchstone to all other deaths , Death is a birth that we - the ones left behind - can not see except in a sweet reverie. I feel the power of my love so fierce in its grief because he will not be waiting for me anymore, my loyal companion. The grief lies in my feeling of betrayal of him. The times I walked past him without a pause. Thats why I cry. Thats why I sob. I want him to know what a great part of my life he has been and will forever be.
