August 15, 2016

Yesterday, my family and I spread our parents' ashes in Glacier National Park.  It certainly provided the impetus for a coda to my January 2016 suite of poems on my family.

"Ash Sunday"

I don't know what I expected:

Ephemeral traces of you 

Like wisps of your souls shining through,

Mystery of life detected?

Some of you scattered with the breeze,

Pieces landing on my shoulders,

Settling down between boulders,

Floating amidst the wild flowers.

A few flakes made it to the trees.

The lake appeared out of reach,

But maybe not its stony beach:

Your final rest in the Rockies.

In the end, some tiniest bones,

Not caught by the wind, at my feet,

A surprise jolt to my heartbeat.

I was naive not to have known.

Still it felt right, your lives respected,

Allowing for whispered goodbye.

My journey out of the big sky

Affords me time 'til re-connected.