Poem By Rhys Clement
Oft did she ask with serious mind,
Where will I be when this be shorn,
Will this be the all there is?
The questions made her quite forlorn.
She left at last her earthly frame,
And that, which was the one we thought,
passed into the holy ground,
Which she and husband Sam had bought.
Easter! And to the holy ground,
We pilgrimaged - but heavy stepped.
The grave was vibrant with the blooms,
But what came next - her doubt was swept?
Daffodils heralding the day,
But one stood out on longer leg
With trumpet reaching for the sky,
and showing us a blackbird egg.
The how's and wherefore's we knew not,
The why's we knew for sure;
A life more beautiful we saw
In nature's wondrous metaphor.
We left the scene with lighter heart,
And slipped into the car and said,
How wonderful this day has been
When two white doves flew overhead. Oft did she ask with serious mind,
Where will I be when this be shorn?
The answer came that Easter Day,
When cord is broke' you are reborn.