Somewhere, in that distant blue-belled glade,
Rain-kissed and softened to enrich the sweet earth,
His ashes were scattered.
When last I saw him, thin and frail
We briefly planned to meet again.
He would speak Swahili.
I have waited for that sharp remembrance
To dull in the time-worn manner,
Allowing only the best of memories
To buoyantly contour my reflections.
He has not come, returning from beyond,
Nor can he!
Both parents are gone now, and sprinkled,
In glade and river, never to reunite,
Until by faith alone, redeemed,
We all shall cross to that rich Paradise
Forever, together again,