Mnesia

 “You have collected all my tears in Your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.“ Psalm 56:8

“To love another person is to see the face of God.” ― Victor Hugo

Mnesia’
timothyrgates,10/06/2014**;5/28/2018;2026

Mnesia,
people die,
i know.
such things happen.
"Death, where is thy sting?"
harps, some people's
ethereal euphemisms
for laicised angels. 
Funny, some nights,
dreaming
i remember those gone,
in their blessed repose.
Singing "Memory Eternal"
in Russian and English.
in Greek, i see them all,
chanting "μνμη..." 
Funny, a bit of Hebrew,
used to know it better,
still dreaming,
chanting
a "Kaddsh,"
in step with
a chant from "The Book of the dead."
Funny, at times,
"sitting,"
these gone,
they seem to call,
and i find myself beholding
their faces.
Funny, fact and fiction
are eclipsed,
bottled tears flow,
i awake with wet cheeks,
happy and glad
that they are still alive
in my dreams.

**first written five months after my Mother’s Blessed Repose