it is funny how we don’t see friends for a while and then you hear they have passed away. you start thinking of possibilities and endings and mortality. then you get a surge of insight from the pain. words come pouring out.
Someone wrote this about Tercia Walker, a former colleague and friend I hadn’t seen in years… it certainly touched me… had me thinking about my own mortality and how fragile we all are:
“Your Mom called just after 11pm,
The next thing I was there…
They told us it would be your last night,
We cried our eyes out,
The sorrow blinded us for light…
Like flowers fading in our hands…..
Everywhere I feel your presence,
I’ve grown up a little bit since you left,
You must be inside me..
Sometimes I hear you talking through my mouth,
And sometimes I know,
you’re seeing through my eyes ….
The cousin I once knew,
Has become a close friend,
The skill in my hand….
It makes me understand,
that we’re just flowers
fading in my hands….
Someone said you would have liked
To stay a little longer,
I don’t want to think about
what could have been or not..
I know you can’t have gone too far,
You’re still here by my side…
In every straw of grass,
Or in the fading light….
I wouldn’t mind following you,
Any time or day…
And inbetween, I’ve gotta go,
A long and winding way…
And when I’m with you in thought or dream,
It’s such a comfort to feel, that every sunset leads to you..
Like flowers that grow from your hands… “