© 2007-2008 John Thornburg
From the upcoming book of poetry “Brillo Pads at Midnight”
She’s Gone Away
“She’s gone away,” we say.
Gone to her reward.
Gone to be with God.
Gone to a better place.
Death is about going somewhere.
An ultimate destination.
Then we notice what’s common to them all.
She’s gone,
and that’s an ultimate reality for us
as much as an ultimate destination for her.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” we say,
because we don’t know what else to say.
or because we don’t know what death amounts to.
Kind of like a cosmic tic-tac-toe game,
and this time you just came up one ‘X’ short.
And God, whose speech comes
through morning sunlight in an east window,
through memories of the quirks
that connect us to our loved ones,
through tears whose moisture feels like grace,
this God says,
“She is not lost, she is gone.
But you know where to find her.
I’m enjoying the one you loved so much.
I always have.”