An introspective poem about life, the passing of my mother, and memories recalled.

The Fourth Dimension

* Mystics use it as a place where spirits live,
since they aren't bound by our earthly rules
In his theory of special relativity, Einstein
called the fourth dimension "time,"
noted that time is inseparable from space.*

"ALL OF LIFE CONTINUES"

She was getting close to the curtains of departure
the flowers were still in bloom this August month
we were chatting amicably by her nursing bed
she tilted her head sideways and said,
all of life continues, and that was that

Now that she is gone I see her everywhere
in more places then I did when she stood,
strong and vibrant as the tallest big tree ;
As the memory unwilts beneath my mind
I sum up her life, and that is that

Mother used to be an artist in the nursing home
she would paint for her children all the time
the same hand that brushed the canvass
once brushed my hair "voila deux belle tresse"
She's in the 4th dimension, that's where she's at.

October 19, 2018
Rest in peace, "ma belle petite maman"