I Wonder If You Always Tell The Truth

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For My Grandmother

Shining whiter than the naked moon,

The light of everlasting life that hails

To those whose service here on earth is done,

Took from us, in time’s own truth, a saint,

Forth from whose lips would not a curse be heard,

No sentence such composed of idle words.


Enveloped in the calm of the still point

Between the death of life and birth of death,

The head reclined in dignity quiet,

Its rigid beauty yields the final breath;

A mouth ajar awaits the first sweet taste

Of nourishment from the gods own heavenly kiss.


This time and toil shall toll not on our love

Though life and its lies must ever remain.

This side of the sun where we lay you to rest

Its joys for we few diminish this day;

Have faded their hues to mark our respect

For the passing of one whom words cannot match.


Seven years shy of the peddler’s prediction,

On recognition of your summerlong charges,

A stranger’s tears took a loved one to leaving;

A daughter’s devotion shall sing through the ages;

A husband’s hands hold a beloved in death -

The eternal slumber that you have been blessed.