My little cedar box

“Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes, because for those who love with their heart and soul, there is no such thing as seperation.”
― Rumi

a cedar box

I own a little cedar box,
and inside it
I placed a token of your heart,
a souvenir
with numbers
imbedded
in metal,
just a memento
of the day the ocean
lovingly received
your mortal remains.

The crematorium’s
notification,
a tag of evidence
that you once breathed
and sang Earth songs,
before
the flames
incinerated
your fingerprints
and you returned
to light.

And I’ve always loved this cedar box,
because its fragrance
lingers,
and fondly bears my attention.
Its scent now contains
a halo of hope
for life everlasting.

When I bought this cedar box
long ago
before sorrow
blew me apart
it appeared lost,
as if it were waiting for an
eternal treasure
to hold
and absorb
with tender loving care.

Woody perfume
from my cedar box
saturates my senses
and wafts
for a moment in sacred air,
while cradling me
in happy memories

This sentient vault
encloses
a metal tag,
proof that you were once here.

©AllysoAlly2018

32 thoughts on “My little cedar box

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