Sorrow is quiet and soft.
How strange, that during the saddest times, the quiet is the loudest voice of all.
Tonight, I send my voice into the stillness.
To honour the love and the sorrow that lingers when we lose our most precious hearts.
Quiet, the place where unconditional love floats free.
Peace. Our soft and gentle, forever home.
In my softness I hold this gift, for you.
A small slice of home,
and a tiny sun to shine
only on you, sweet friend.
This rain will pass,
it will pass on through the air.
And in your eyes I will find
the joy
lingering,
calling from the horizon of you.
And in my eyes, the shine of knowing.
Knowing that rain built the very rainbow
that now shields you, for life.
Knowing you always were okay.
Every moment.
Safe.
Loved.
And on your way.
Reality strikes hard, sometimes.
The pain.
The pain of others: it tears me to the bone.
The delicacy of life, its precious petals.
It all aches within this lithe human frame of mine.
Cold impermanence.
Startling truth.
Fragile life.
Sometimes it tears us.
And I know you don’t want to,
but let yourself see:
sometimes it tears us.
I will hold you when it tears you.
I will hold you.
I will hold you.
I have craved your whispering goodness.
I have known your shadows deep.
And here we sing
to a tender memory
of scattered and tumbling
diamond dust.
A silver breath
of life
incomplete.
Take these wings and soar, little friend.
Over the rainbow bridge,
and into the diamond sky
of our forever. 
Beautiful girl.
This is not pain.
This is the most beautiful cloud,
lined with the silver
of your darling
sweet
heart.
brooke-cutler.com 