In loss, tears flow into a river,
flowing outward into the western lands,
like a beacon to those who have departed and they know:
they are loved and are remembered.
Open now is the gate of sorrow,
Let tears fall like rain to cleanse the soul.
Grief is the bridge to rebirth.
So shriek at the heavens and mourn your loss,
tear at your clothes and sob into the Mothers’ breast.
Then take your love and wear it proudly,
let it shine amongst the heavens like a star,
guiding souls to the land of rest.

©2000

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