Another life...

They placed her ghastly body
on such a safe, modern device.
Motorized trolley,
computerized heat;
a furnace to transform her
- forever -
freezing my heart.

Only fragments
came out of the retort
to be pulverized,
become soft and acceptable
pasty-pale-powder.

Could I ever believe
that her perfumed earthly body
was now in a clean, labeled box?

A collection of cremains
is not all that remains,
not a handful of dust.

So she came back to me
from the door left ajar,
in a dream full of open windows
she stepped into my life.

It wasn't really her,
yet she was more herself
than she'd ever been:
her stronger,
smiling-shining side.

She did not travel
from the world of the dead,
but through the glorious gate
of images created
when she was still alive.

She came into my private space
- a precious, vivid picture -
to simply stay with me
and begin a new life.

Images of beauty live
relieved of the mortal shell
as a gift from our ancestors,
as a part of ourselves.