You’ve never looked as beautiful as you do now
with death standing over your shoulder.
I’ve never loved you more than I do now
as your body grows weak with surrender.
I no longer have anything to save or shield me
from the heartbreak of your departure.
I look death in the eyes, and I bow to her —
for she does not negotiate or yield.
You have become so a part of me
that I feel no separation between us.
And I know:
When our Lady ushers you back into the Mystery
what’s left of me will follow you.
