Release

At work I sit alone in an office in a chair

at a desk of a woman I only met a few times. 

Wednesday she passed away

after a sudden juggernaut of cancer spread through her body over the last six months.

I found out over the phone commuting home. 

Previously in the afternoon my body paused. 

I felt heaviness, limbs wanting to curve in like reforming an egg,

Breathing slowly, pensive, sensing something powerful had transpired. 

Like a release

I knew days were close for her going into that dawn,

but had no way of knowing in that moment the timing of mortality. 

All I can say is I stopped. 

I could feel what felt like a ripple of energy. 

I took my hands in mudra with each finger touching its complement

on the opposing hand placing my forehand in the curved aperture

between the archway of my fingers. 

I breathed with my eyes closed and felt the power of that moment

with her work sweater still zipped to the back of the chair I was sitting. 

Some people believe in god. 

I personally do not, but

I recognize the presence of our interconnected universe

passing in a totality of energy and consciousness. 

No one knows on god one way or another. 

We have moments that make us contemplate, feel, absorb, and notice. 

This was one for me. 

Today I attended her funeral

Hundreds of mourners lined in compassionate recognition

A mother, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend

I stood in black

Walking into the soup of faces in a Catholic church

Sipped in like stale wine

I signed my name in print not wanting to hide  

I sat in a pew meditating hummed an aum summoning a simulacrum

Of the vibration I felt at the desk

Wishing peace and time’s compassion into those aching

Eyes closed, breathing

I positioned in line towards the altar

Her husband set brave feet to Earth

Receiving humans with no suitable words

In fleeting apertures

I gave my name

I sit at her desk

On the day she died I felt something deep passing

like a release, stopping me to pause

In my body around noon

I did know until after work

And I wanted you to know

In the presence of her space, in her chair

What I felt

Tears welled in his face as I spoke, he gripped his hands to his chest

I do not know if life has a way it is supposed to go

I know energy, I know love, I know kindness

She had all of these

I am no longer a man of faith,

But maybe I can still be a conduit for those who are

In their darkest hours

That there is a connection between us all

We may give it many names

Perceive alternative modalities,

But in each we are all present in one interconnected pulse