remembering friends

The Recipe Box

Opening up the old rubbed wooden box

I smelled time lingering from recipes of the past.

Shoved into in a hurried way of schedules and life

I pulled a hand full of recipes tattered and unorganized.

Sifting through in hopes to find a recipe to add to a menu

for a friend who is sitting in a hospital room with her mate.

A mate of 50 years now succumbed to life and cancer.

I look to see which one will do, and as I do, I see names.

These were the names of friends from a lifetime,

friends who shared a moment and then left a recipe to remember.

Friends much like the ones who are holding the hand of each other

waiting for life to say good-bye until another time.

I look at the names and realize the box has become a eulogy of friends,

the recipes reflecting their personality, their smiles, their life.

I feel as though it brought me to a sacred place, of time, sharing,

a holy place of scents and smells forgotten, but not their presence.

What a lovely star I saw, just before the dawn,

large and bright in morning light twinkling out so far

I questioned if it was a plane and watched a while to see

it did not move this wonder star among the sky so darkly

I watched and thought, it could be one saying hi

One who passed on before, that now so far resides

I walked on for a while and relished in its light

Looking and watching and taking joy in Mars’ sparkling sight

I had to go back inside and get ready for the day

But I knew as the sun did rise, the star was never far away.