Note: My dear friend Urashan is now in hospice care. Her sight is dimming and her mind is clear. She sings the sun down each evening, Ave Maris Stella, “Hail, Oh Star of the Sea.” Maris Stella is also the name of her cedar and glass home fronting the Salish Sea.

Urashan’s son, John Schelling Pollock, posted this poem and photo below, January 3. John is also the editor, publisher, and photographer of Urashan’s book, “The Sacred Ordinary: The Odyssey of a 91-year-old Contemplative.”

The Unnaming of Grief

Of dying I have such little regard.

I look away.

There are the pines swaying. Swaying

In the breeze.

Swaying in the gale.

The ceaseless lapping of the Salish Sea

Waves. The heart still beating as one

All over the world.

Can I not stop time?

Can you please just not go?

Why can’t we live forever?

Why cannot you?

I am bereft before

The fact. I will be after.

The wave is subsuming itself.

We are one.

We live forever. I love

You. Forever.

I am holding you, I hold you

Forever.

Long gone stars still send their light

To us mortals here on Earth.

O Father who art

In heaven. O Mother who art

Everywhere. I am all at once

Beside myself and full

Of myself. Be still and know: I am

God. I am; I am not. I am nothing. I am

Everything. I am

Grateful. The Universe owns itself.

Good bye.

Bad bye.

Bye.

Wave.

Wave.

. . .

Wave.

©️John Schelling Pollock; all rights reserved; use by permission only.

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