One year has passed; twelve months, with the length of twelve dark new moons! And still, I hear the roar of the waves crashing against the rolling rocks; the shrill sound of the fog horn roaring in the near distant landscape – or is it the seascape? Everywhere I turn, I see Nature in all Her glory and power and fragility.

If I lean to my left side, the vastness of majestic Atlantic is infinite – one would believe, could believe, that She endures forever. Her rising swells surging into the rocks seem like such an untimely and unnatural end. How can such devotion to our earth be ended with just a splash against a rock?

of the flora reflects such striving – as if life were just too hard and survival a moment to moment effort. Why have the powerful pines withered and now stand feeble with brittle bark and little life? What great cosmic catastrophe could diminish such greatness? How can the pines be dead when the wild flower still blooms in full vibrancy of yellow hue?

This time twelve months ago you, my dear Jane, lived in limbo between two worlds. To your left, was the sterile and friendless nursing home room, barren save for a few family pictures, a plant or two and your Bible on the TV stand. Voiceless you slept while awake. And I would wonder, can you hear or see me here? To your right, I would imagine your inner dialogue and hope that your dreams were pleasant and your conversations heavenly and enlightened.

So now, as I compose these lines, and think of the year gone by, I add my thankful prayer that my Jane is held in God’s loving arms. I know that she is encompassed in divine power and is forever held in an ocean of infinite Love. I am thankful that she is no longer ravaged by disease and disappointment. I know that like the valiant wild flower growing stubbornly in the rock, all life can conquer adversity and defeat death and I, like my dear Jane, will someday be reborn in a world much higher than this one.

Hope survives and thrives as I recapture the dreadful beauty of the Atlantic seacoast.

Author Notes:

This travel-inspired poem is dedicated to my dear mother-in-law who passed away on May 12, 2005. 

The picture is one I took in Maine on the Quoddy Lighthouse trail. The “moments” I am trying to capture are the “powerful feelings” I associate with my mother-in-law’s long battle with Alzheimer’s and the power and awesome beauty of nature.