The Funeral
A monochromatic gathering, all in black; not just the apparel but also at heart.
The woman they knew, they loved, they admired;
is gone but in mortality alone.
Hitherto a soul confined to a body, now she exists as much more;
in laughters, in tears, in photographs and countless memories of yore.
She departed through with and along a pyre, an urn and the blazing fire.
The significance of her departure seemed conveniently oblivious
to those who knew her not as the branch of a river or the wind in the sail-
which was but all she was.
As mere words were uttered but ignored by many ears;
as sobs were followed by salty, grief filled tears;
as the sky was blue, above her, awaiting and
the smoke was there, dispersing the sorrow;
as so much is happening for not whom she is but for whom she was;
she gave them more to remember than to ask for;
she left them all- she went alone, alone she went, the wretched lass.