Recently, I was shocked to my core by the death of a friend. While the facts surrounding her passing are unclear and not mine to share, she died much too young. Like so many struggling with chronic illness and mental health concerns. Like my mother, who died in 2013 at the age of 68 years old, riddled with five different cancers. Like my brother, who died at age six. A young life that hadn’t even begun really. Yet I hear their spirits. On the wind: in my mother’s windchimes, in the flight of a butterfly and yes, in the silence or in my dreams. Thank you for the visits.
I hear you on the wind, playing your melodies to my soul
I feel your touch on my face when you breathe upon it
I see your light in the darkness
When only the moon and stars light the way
I see your struggles and triumph
From chrysalis to butterfly
I hear you in the silence
I hear you in the songs of a lark
I feel you in the sway of a weeping willow
I see your promise in the rainbow
I feel your healing presence in my tears
I hear you on the wind
I see your grit in the stones you loved so well
Your legacy in the shells and masks you’ve left behind.
I hear you on the wind, whispering “I am here and I am there”.
I hear your Spirit.
© 2015 Paulissa Kipp, Art of Becoming. Sharing welcome WITH attribution (credit)