A 49th day Memorial Service was held for my mom yesterday at the Empty Hand Zen Center. She died peacefully in her sleep. She was 86 years old.
White Owl Flies
Coming down
Out of the freezing sky
With its depth of light
Like and angel, or a Buddha with wings,
It was beautiful and accurate,
Striking the snow and whatever was there
And then it rose, gracefully
And flew back to the frozen marshes
To lurk there
Like a little lighthouse,
In the blue shadows -
So I thought
Maybe death
Isn't darkness, after all
But so much light
Wrapping itself around us
As soft as feathers -
That we are instantly weary
Of looking, and looking, and shut our eyes...
-Mary Oliver