(for Susan Hertel)
They say that you lived in the moment.
That’s how you could get so much done.
All day gluing tassels of stone on town’s walls.
but you didn’t complain.
That fed kids and animals.
When night came you painted for hours.
A calming device.
You chanted until dawn. Morning found you
awake and refreshed.
You lived in the moment and that was your secret
You fought cancer once. You won, it bounced back.
You thought you’d let nature decide. And nature you knew.
You knew. Seasons colors light matter
stones clay fire and water.
You knew rhythm and hours.
To make food for many.
To manage fatigue
keep quiet and let time be your friend.
You knew time.
You said ‘must be time to let go’.
One more task you’d bravely embrace.
You truly lived simply, Susan
then you stepped aside with same lightness.
Is art all you’ve left? Is there more?
Did you weave yourself in the tapestry
with tiny meticulous stitches
like nuns did in convents?
Are you a golden freeze in a corner?
A bird flight
embossing the sky.