Thinking of you, I come to our path
With its contorted trees, leafless branches
Vein an overarching sky heavy with rain.
Now, even now all of nature is
Close and together just as we have been.
There is suffering, your dear face
Clenched in pain. We have shed tears
Yet we are together, the Park is close
And holy. Pure, like soft air
Your courage is a light drawing
Me to you, skills I have, skills with my
Hands are yours. The real act of love
Is being together in suffering?
Dearest Mum, look up, rain hangs
Like glittering jewels, the air is so fresh,
Touching softly, looks up, somewhere are
Light and hope, together as we
Are together and all that is holy dwells
In us sharing mind of compassion,
Of suffering with, together finding
We can and will go on.

Copyright©2005 By George Coombs.