no closer could she be to the godly 

than breathing the last of what’s left of her 

at the brink of sweet release 

as the lotuses gather as an astounded audience 

watching a shipwreck from shore 


the cold water that had clutched onto her sinking body like an envious lover 

frees her from its harsh grip 

as she surrenders to the icy lake 


at last, the sun grazes her skin 

her eyelids, fingers and neck 

painting her in glittery gold jewels like 

bringing flowers to a stranger’s funeral 


her breath becomes the air, as tears become the lake 

her soul is finally soothed by the sun 

as she and nature become one 



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1 Comment

  1. Wow beautiful words. Super Anjali. Utrolig fin art work Solveig Hestholm. Hats off for borth.

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