Alice sent me this poem. It has taken me a while to post it and I am not sure why, but here goes.
It is by Mary Sheepshanks.
For Huldine
If death is but the first flight
of a fledgling bird - a test
for wings not so far fully tried -
then you'd stretched yours out
for quite some time
to balance at the edge
of life's precarious nest
with laughter and high courage.
You turned your body's valiant flight,
into a springboard for your spirit's flight
- your song will always be
a song of joy.
You lit a flare of friendship
and we, who loved you so much,
remain the richer for your life
and all the warmth and brightness
that you shared with us.
It is by Mary Sheepshanks.
For Huldine
If death is but the first flight
of a fledgling bird - a test
for wings not so far fully tried -
then you'd stretched yours out
for quite some time
to balance at the edge
of life's precarious nest
with laughter and high courage.
You turned your body's valiant flight,
into a springboard for your spirit's flight
- your song will always be
a song of joy.
You lit a flare of friendship
and we, who loved you so much,
remain the richer for your life
and all the warmth and brightness
that you shared with us.
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