I cannot explain, in simple terms
what I witnessed that summer's day
my mother's life had left the room,
genuflected, then slipped away
When she died, the light escaped,
in a soft whoosh in space and time.
I'd held her hand until she passed
her grip no longer mine.
A family stood in silent prayer
magnified by salty tear.
To them she'd gone to a better place
to the God she did revere.
But I, I just stood in stare,
and noticed now in darkened glare,
the invisible light leave quietly
this life in auraed flare.
When she died, the light escaped,
in a soft whoosh of space and time
but did I just imagine in this moment of despair
a craving for some hope filled astral sign.
Did the light deceive me,
for no one else had seen,
the parting of this ethereal force
from the body where it once had been.
I cannot explain, in simple terms
what I witnessed that summer's day
in hope I'd seen her soul's farewell
that day she passed away.
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.