Some people are slowly taken,
to the other realm.
Not physically, but mentally.

Memory by memory,
they are moved from us,
like a painstakingly slow house-flit.

Boxes full of life,
chapters, people, loves.
All packed into a van,
to wait their arrival on the other side

And as these parts are removed,
those left feel further away.

As though their love is already leaving them.

It is a lonely, painful departure, my friends,
this much is sadly true.

But I like to think of the person we knew,
reaching the other side,
finally,
once more whole.

And upon arrival they see their boxes,
awaiting them so long,
and they open them up,
the chapters, the memories, the loves,
and reunite with them again.

I can feel that heartfelt joy
and it brings me joy too.

They are not lost for long,
though it may feel so.

In rest, they remember it all.

DONNA ASHWORTH

MY POETRY BOOKS ARE HERE