dressed up and neatly shaven,
never ever did he look this calm
as when he touched my arm
and slid beside me
on a street-cafe bench-seat.
They say you know when grace arrives.
You hear the words singing through
the silent lift of spirit surrounding you.
And then his face was very close.
His shirt was the white linen best,
that one he wore,
when he was laid to rest.
He looked so well, his eyes were blue.
I looked into his face and said,
You are not dead?!
I remained still.
I was so happy to see him.
Then, the last lingering vision,
was that these new-blue eyes
were wearing?
the wonderfully white linen shirt!
With the 'knowing' of mourning,
this joy will be
within me.
This is a re-post from that day in November, 2021
First I only saw the up-close face, then
as the image faded I saw the linen shirt.
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