This poem was written after the death of my great aunt, who gave me an oral history of my family and its travels through time and cultures. There have been several public and painful deaths this week – a four year old boy in Worcester, Ed McMahon, Farah Fawcett and tonight, 50-year old Michael Jackson. My way is to light a candle and share a poem. As is sometimes the case with me, a given poem evolves as I do.
TANTE BASHEVA
She is leaving with the tide;
Distant fires gleam in her eyes,
And her head turns to listen
To music I cannot hear.
I sat with her
To share her stories of her life;
Now she casts off all moorings
And sails, ahead of me.
Ancient of Days, do not forget her.
Let her light shine, with those who went before;
Admit her into that circle
Whose Spirits shine like eternal flames,
with Thee
When beyond time I follow
May we meet and share, indeed;
For the voyage is never ending
For those who sail with Thee.
Deborah Sirotkin Butler
Revised 2009
But today, yesterday, this week, mortality is much in the news.