Maxine Clarke
I thought last night of the stars.
So many of them,
how they all glow so brightly in their own space,
always there,
even when I don't actively look for them.
Are they the souls of people,
constantly with us,
waiting for the darkness to bring them alive?
Or can I believe what I know they are:
intense, fiery, lights of something close to eternity?
Last night they seemed to be my thoughts,
one after the other twinkling into consciousness:
your kind words,
your encouragement,
your fairness
the times I met you
and we talked.
Thank you Maxine.
Your stars will continue
- each one a bright beacon.
So many of them,
how they all glow so brightly in their own space,
always there,
even when I don't actively look for them.
Are they the souls of people,
constantly with us,
waiting for the darkness to bring them alive?
Or can I believe what I know they are:
intense, fiery, lights of something close to eternity?
Last night they seemed to be my thoughts,
one after the other twinkling into consciousness:
your kind words,
your encouragement,
your fairness
the times I met you
and we talked.
Thank you Maxine.
Your stars will continue
- each one a bright beacon.
posted by Clare Dudman at 5:50 pm
2 Comments:
That's absolutely gorgeous, Clare, and a lovely memorial to Maxine.
Many thanks. I've just been reading your thoughtful tribute too. All too true. It is very sad.
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