1935-2019
She died today.
It is winter.
I feel her in the barren trees
reminding us
to let ourselves be winter
let ourselves trust death,
become intimate
with leavings
and the cold.
She died today.
She has merged
with the Silence
that she painted
in her poems,
that she inhaled
from the roots
and exhaled
into us.
We will
feel her
on the wet earth
see her
in the holy moon
when we awaken
at night,
unmoored,
hear her
in the mothering sea.
When the season turns
we will flower again
into the world
with the whisper
of her wisdom.
“…I tell you this
to break your heart,
by which I mean only
that it break open and never
close again…”