Steady sounding of heart suddenly syncopated,
Now faint,
Fainter,
‘til still.
Yet beyond this illusory display your spirit arcs forward,
Strong,
Stronger,
‘til sun itself seems obscured by your essence.
And this is Ana.
No, not some puny amalgam of skin, bones, sinew and blood,
But a rhythm transcendent that illumines mind's dark,
Reflecting, reminding and insisting on adherence to the process.
And this is Ana.
Not bound in a trite phrase,
Or wrapped in a rhyme,
Not circled in dogma,
Nor housed in blank verse,
A steady reflection of love, light, grace and faith,
Purely human arcing to transcend,
Reflecting, reminding and insisting on adherence to the process.
This truth being indisputable,
How can mere mortality mark separation or end?
And this is Ana.
And these are shared reflections,
Infinite despite breath's prison,
Eternal despite illusions of end
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poignant rendition written in persuasive poetic expressions with conviction. A heartfelt eulogy nicely brought forth with insight. Thanks for sharing, Richard.
Thanks for the encouraging comment Chinedu.