you are tethered here now by just a few threads gossamer thin that flex and strain with each laboured breathe
soon the last of them will fray and break and you will be free to float away
to see and enjoy new vistas to be unencumbered by that, that drew you down into the dark
then untethered you will fly to the heavens like a bird, small against the blue, blue sky
or perhaps more akin to a dandelion seed be taken by a gust of wind to a new environ mayhaps, a cliff top by a shining blue sea and there to take seed and grow again and again whilst the sea kisses the sand
And now she is...rest in peace... my mothet died peacefully as dawn broke on the 6th of April...