You were taken
so quickly
From dust to dust, but
you had not even drifted yet.
You were a vapor, fragrant mist
not noticed but certainly
not forgotten.
She couldn't catch you,
and they.
You were parched roots of
a lonely tree who
dreamt dreams of family,
but darling, your soul was
snatched away.
Your mother held you, dying, in
her quivering arms, close
to heaven, close to heart,
but even then who can
sense the movements of
the human soul?
Behold, O mother, whose
eyes are dull with ashes--
there is water pure to cleanse.
Behold, O sister, whose
eyes serene unfeeling--
shed a tear for dormant hearts,
lest yours be still again.
Mine eyes cannot even bear
to hold their gaze!
O pain unbearable,
O darkness thick,
not long, not much longer, for
in death, we shall arise.
