For My Brother
I have been doing a Buddhist ritual to ease his passage for my brother for the 49 days since he passed away. The ritual ends this morning. My dear friend and neighbor sent me a link to some of Valery's poetry this morning. What I found there sounds like its from my brother.
'At the golden dying hour of twilight when the sky turns rose pink
and at last permits the eyes to admire it
Then, mute with pleasure,
a scene captures me:
the shadow of a woman, her sash trailing, caught by the wind.
That drifting sash,
feather-light and tremulous,
forms my only connection to this world.
Absent or present, I am all alone and melancholy
… oh beautiful shroud!'
~ by Paul Valery - French 1871-1945