Paula's Star Poem

The wonder of it is:
Whatever God creates
He names.
What, after all, is the conception
of babies or stars (or anything else)
but divine love specifically naming?

She was a young woman:
Comet bright, rugby boisterous,
Laughing earth's joy, sobbing its sorrow.
Illuminating with flaring righteousness
the ordered orbits of friends and strangers,
Her passionate caring,
in turn, love-shielded by friends;
Her songs of joy and justice woven
into the universal hymn surrounding her.

She was too young!
Heaven and earth still weep
at the savage galactic gash
inflicted by her sudden eclipse,
Leaving behind
dark desolation.

Yet, the glory of it is:
She is called home,
To join the pure harmonies
of the Christ-starred cosmic chorus,
Or the perfect laughter
of an angelic frisbee match.
Eternally named!

For you, her lover,
Once named to sing her songs,
Husband, her laughter and tears,
Shelter her passion,
Nuture the fierce light
she shed upon the world,

And for you, infant treasure,
Star bones already divinely knitted and reknitted,
You who were cradled
in a more tender light,
Bathed only
in a clear maternal glow

May grief's vast black hole
Be laced with traces of cosmic laughter

May you see again the wonder and the glory.

written by my Aunt Kathy (June 2007)