by Marie Boucher
April 5, 2020
In Memoriam to Joan Cobb Hopkins
Today the heavens opened and received an angel.
She ascended effortlessly–her family by her side
humming a gentle tune… Chopin or Mozart?
The heavens opened again, unleashed a strong torrent.
Are they weeping? Are they rejoicing?
Filling the rivers with song?
She loved songs…always singing and composing,
humming a gentle tune over tea…
And then the ducks got out…
We had a fright… where might they be?
We found them under the wood pile,
hiding for safety, longing for home.
Another friend gathered her company
of minstrels, poets and gardeners
in virtual reality; they serenaded
and gave thanks for her birth.
The heavens opened again.
Clouds streamed their tears
of joy and sorrow.
The ducks came home;
the angel showed her wings;
the revelers went about their merry way…
And I, attempted to weave it all
in the garden at twilight—the tears,
the rain, the release, the longing,
the loss, the homecoming—-
it’s all there in my garden, the singing,
if only I could distill it into a fragrance
and share it with you all—so you could know
sorrow, joy, sacred and eternal—
if only, you could all inhale the essence of today.
Featured photo by Philippe Oursel on Unsplash
