Thank you Sabine, for this beauty. Sharing with love and appreciation.

With Night

– For Lucia on the anniversary of Elizabeth’s death

Blue lacewing
singing
in the atrium

at summer’s end
coaxed
into open palms

where it stays
even while
being waved

through the garden,
oak crickets,
old moonlight –

Meanwhile
soliloquies
of poets and healers

echo inside:
A mother dwelling
in pastures

of surrender
helps one daughter
die-before-she-dies, held

in the heart of
her mother’s hands –
in the heart of a Hand

she’s a blue,
Blue rose as
open as it gets,

the petals the waves
she’ll return
in – the rosebud

she’ll become
is starlight
packed in

tight and deeper
than one can
fathom with this

mind, on this
night.

By Sabine Miller ©, 2014