From The Christening
Those who came before us
are not gone,
even though they rest today
in quiet fields of stone and flower.
Those we love who are gone
live in mind and heart,
alive in love’s power.
But more than this,
those who came before
and gave us life,
or read stories to us at a Sunday visit,
played games together at the family picnic,
gazed out the window with us during the storm –
arms around –
or held us at the christening,
still live I claim.
Look back through the lens of time.
Follow the unseen line of sight,
not my invention,
but one that science calls dimension.
This story tells of an unbroken line, a celestial strand,
a woven thread of strength eternal.
The eternal now.
The ones we love
are still as they were,
alive and strong,
though passed from our easy view.
They still move and breathe,
laugh and sing,
on that line of time,
as real as yesterday,
like friends who moved away
now living in another town.
But we’re the ones who moved.
Still, that strand is in our reach.
I feel the threads return and join,
connecting to the fabric here
that I now hold in hand,
this fabric of the gown passed downfrom the christening.
April 2014 North Andover, Mass.
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