In memory of my sister, Eleanor
What consecrated thought; divine intent
Was there, to cause this noble child to die?
To what avail to take what heaven sent;
This gift, how could the gods so justify?
Why probe the cosmic sea of mystery,
When answers to such questions are not found?
Seek, rather, what she left to memory,
All else is just conjecture to confound.
Her work accomplished on this conscious plane,
Fulfilling destiny, her purpose, life.
The knot was cleaved in two, this human skein,
She saw upon the dawn relief from strife.
She was to us as spirit weaves with mind,
As Self is earth and heaven intertwined.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem