Rain fell again.

Santa Cruz where bullets rained in ‘99

Was the setting for rain again.

People in black and solemn

turned out for Cristina’s funeral.

A quiet, a murmur, chats about life

 

The coffin arrived and the gathered

made their way grave side squeezing

between the monuments and the rough

piles of soil marking the places

of the already dead.

 

Standing among the bright

gaudy and fake, slowly fading

plastic flowers adorning every tomb.

The reds, yellows, blues and white

contrast the sober dress and

the congregating grey clouds.

 

The coffin is interred and wailing starts.

The trigger for the clouds to open

The rain descends as flowers are arranged

Heavy drops of life fall from the sky.

 

Tears of life at this moment of change

From this life to the next

Tears of sadness - Tears of relief,

Tears for new beginnings

Tears of rain cleansing all beneath

 

Nature helping the healing process

The cycle of ashes to ashes and dust to dust

The cycle of water and seed to growth of new life

 

(In memory of Cristina who shares my birthday)