In The Bow

For Robert

Listen, Children, listen.
Quiet the roaring in your breast.
Grief is the privilege of the Living
and tomorrow.
Listen. Listen and hear
the wings whisper round his head
and feel the air move in their wake.

The door of the multiverse stands ajar
and beyond he can see
the radiance of the Tree of Life,
unseen since the closing of the garden gate.

The cells - good and bad - are working
together to help him chose.  Lungs
labor and heart swells slowly as
the doorway draws him near.

But he is like an infant who resists
their birth, rolls and pokes against
an unknown and the star filled world.
Guide and push and offer yourselves as the
great muscles of your body once guided a child.

He will not fail or falter.
He will not fall into the sea and be lost again.
He will not be forgotten.

Self will stand proud in the new land and
he will walk through the trees

down to the shore.