There are four faces which I never kissed goodbye,
Four bodies that I never will embrace,
Four spirits that like candles did burn out,
And I am left the poorer with their smoke.
Four beings that all touched me in some way,
Teaching me in their quiet, gentle ways,
Who left me with fond thoughts of laughs and plays,
And ancient laws the universe itself obeys.
Two aunts, a great aunt, and a gran,
Each in their way a matriarch to me,
Each etched into my heart by subtle deeds,
Teaching their wisdom still by memory.
But they are dust, gone from the world I’m in,
How should I mourn their loss,
Except, perhaps, I’m my remembering,
Four women lost to earth yet not forgot.
Reminding me, and urging me to think,
Not on the physical that now is gone,
But to remember all the things they tought,
That I am product of a thousand loves before me.
I’m able now to say my gratitudes.