Pieces of hand dyed pre-felt are hung out over the bath to dry like brightly coloured prayer flags. Each one the hue of autumn leaves shining in their brilliance before returning to the earth, their nutrients allowing new life to bloom. It is only in the language of nature can I make sense of my brother's death.
While his body, that familiar shell has returned like the leaves to play their part in the cycle of life to the body of our mother, earth ...what of the spirit? That spark of eternal energy, that piece of 'god' which resides inside each of us ~ where is it?
I have lost a brother! I want to know where he is. I want signs, I need clues.
Is it our nature as being human we want more? There must be something else after life, yet that very story of returning to our mother, even in it's microcosm level is powerful and with purpose.
The felt flag prayers sing my song of wanting to live life and surround myself only with people who make you feel alive and use my hands to do things which feed me with purpose and satisfaction ~ and sew everything I am drawn to into this rich fabric of life.
2 comments:
My heart weeps with yours and also celebrates his life as he lives on in your passionate re-membering of his soul and spirit.
Thank you for your words. It was my brothers birthday this weekend and you've reminded me to return to these words and their purpose.
Be well,
Jude X
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