A moth that caressed a flame
Is now incinerated;
Flood waters have swept away a house,
And someone once deeply loved is now alone,
Staring at a flickering screen
In an empty room.
Even as these letters are formed,
Just as you and I are fading,
And everything we know and love
Or think we hate,
Is being annihilated
If made of matter.
And that is why things invisible
And thus not prone to decay
Are what I silently push across a table to you
Somewhere between the soup and the pudding.
Invisible gifts cross the barrier of death;
Love given is never lost--
It creates new galaxies and lights the stars
In our heavens.
Copyright Julie Paquette