She is not dead but sleeps,
mother who leaves you her heritage
of life’s sweet remembered joys.
She still lives in your heart,
in the happiness you knew,
in the dreams you shared.
Those dreams still breathe in
the lingering fragrance windblown,
from her loved and favourite flowers.
They still smile in the moonlight's silver
laugh in the sunlight's sparkling gold.
They still speak in the echoes of words
You heard her say again and again.
They still move unaltered evergreen,
in the rhythm of waving grasses,
in the dance of tossed tree branches.
She is not dead:
her memory is warm in your heart,
a comfort in your sorrow.
She is not apart from you
but a part of you
Your love is eternal,
for those we love are with us
throughout all eternity.
Tobias