In memory of Shirley

I am standing upon the hillside.
As she who has come before me spreads her
arms in the morning breeze and
reaches for the blue sky.





She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the land and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says:
"There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight. That is all.

She is just as full of life as she was when she left my side.

And just at the moment when someone at my side says "There, she is gone!"
There are other eyes watching her coming
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout:
"Here she comes!"

--Adapted from "Gone From My Sight" by Henry Van Dyke.