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Beloved Everywhere

The August trees
are crowned with the piano music
you once had played.
The blue silken sky’s imbued
with an operatic voice
that attended a piece of music
you had loved.
The winding Verdun streets
through which I wander,
the laughter and smiles,
gleaming sunglasses
of passing couples, companions
make up your flowing hair now,
make up your hair glowing now.
The architectures,
buildings and houses,
sonorous with variety,
their colors and forms
call to mind your forties, fifties
when you reasoned very well
and reasoned with passion,
your reason now supporting
those structures that I see.
When I reach the river,
waves astir with fireflies,
bicycles zipping by,
green lush, with golden manes,
I feel you envelop these,
and I hear still
your music crowning the trees…

I return home.
On the piano
stands the urn –
and I muse on death, on birth.
Did we not appear on Earth,
a dream of mother and son,
that love may shine the brighter
for and of the One?
Beloved, you did not die;
Beloved of no name,
out of You death came.
Death does not deprive.
Through death, your child, I see You now
everywhere, intensely alive.

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