She Walks In Beauty

Image from my flicker photostream

She Walks in Beauty
by George Gordon Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

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My aunt died on Tuesday p.m. A truly noble human being, the last of the "Elders" of my mother's generation.

The night she died, I had a dream of being in a procession of people moving towards a wooden-log-cabin-like 'lodge'. I knew some of the people and didn't know others. Some were on walkers and in wheelchairs, and I was trying to figure out what the assembly was for.

When I heard that my aunt had died, I knew that these were truly the 'elders' , come to honor her and to welcome her.

May light eternally shine on her.

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