Hold me in my grieving, Lord God Most High
as I let go of all that is not you.
The branch is ripe, if truth be told!
When the harvesters arrive they will laugh and sing
as they unencumber my loving.
Let me be wise enough to open wide the gate
of my giving,
stand ready ...
as I offer now the fruits of my life.
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Farewell
We never want to let go of them, those we love. How could it be any different than that? We loved them, hold them still ...
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