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… “
