Drenched in green, I'm surrounded
by a living quilt exploding up and out,
from winter's long death.

This year, I don't feel crowded
by the goldenrod and chicory
the pale jewelweed and wild cucumber
creeping from the mountains
onto paths trampled flat by a thousand feet.

I feel embraced, protected,
by life that glimmers--
a dozen shades of green
and green and green...
imploring my numb mind
to release the grief.

The cardinals, darting out from beyond,
were set free to cross my path
by her slender fingers.
Of course, she can catch them.
Of course, they're drawn to her.
Her voice, in life, pure music
must, in death, be pure magic.

When I walk this verdant maze
at the edge of our dual realities,
I feel her close, lingering
beyond the skin
that separates our worlds,
The barrier--thin as breath, fragile as air.

She gifts me with glimpses...
in the spine of a brown feather
she's laid at my feet,
in the rolling clouds,
dancing above me,
in the rustle of new leaves,
an echo of laughter.