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TRANSCENDENT VIOLET A poem by Violet's mother, Tara Rubinoff-Ruedas
You’re gone, really gone ~
That is, to all but a few.
Your mother grieves;
She never really believes.
Your essence still a wispy vapor,
It eludes her like the breeze.
A violet shadow, a rose-petal remnant, a floral mist ~
Is her only glimpse of your sweetness.
Mother envisions you in the sun-kissed meadow.
She pictures you in purple, flitting among the bunnies.
Oh, flowery girl inspiring mother’s fancy,
One lavender dress flash evokes such wistfulness.
Tiny and veiled in green garland and trees,
Imperceptible to most, you are hazily noted in Heaven’s melodies.
Some thought you disappeared without a trace,
But you were once a vision of recognition in your mother’s embrace.
Grandmother also gazed upon your tender, God-knit features;
Brother’s heart aches for you and not memorial balloon releases.
Mother wakes with panic when she momentarily can’t see you.
She recollects she must find solace in her daydreams for this.
There you are, adorned in blossoms;
Mother knows this by heart & again blows you a kiss.
Soft stillness confirms your fragrant spirit without stature;
Delicate Violet, your bloom is intertwined in your mother’s nature.
Beautiful flowers, there are many, yet each is distinct.
Sweet Violet, you were slight, yet transcendent.
You were budding with promise and a mother’s song of joy.
Now she treasures your memory, a wreath woven in a redemption story.
We will one day behold you among Heaven’s bouquet.
Our consolation is greater in anticipating that day.
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