This is Maura: Everyday Magic, Day 194

Today at Maura’s funeral and the Irish wake that followed, Maura seemed to be everywhere, threading through conversations, smack in the center of story after story, and in the synapses between jokes and punchlines. She was also shot through this poem I wrote about her that I read at the service:

This is Maura

A thousand dragonflies in the glint of sun, birdsong lifting

at the cusp of morning, or a melody you hear for the first time

and realize you already know it: This is Maura.

The one who answers any call with a fast-risen sun

of attention, unfurling stories involving two lads,

gamboling in the glades after a midnight sauna with the girls,

a late night flight from Poland, or a book that must be read,

and not without a chocolate truffle because life is hard,

and we must not waste any of it.

 

She is laughing and lamenting in the supermarket,

walking arm-in-arm with Jarek on a snowy day,

or waking from a late afternoon nap ready to rush back

into voice for us, even while navigating the little excruciations

of the body over time, the old abandonments, the beloved land

and she left, the beloved family and community she made.

She is sighing over her grandchildren, so in love with

their shining eyes and lanky undertakings. She is holding out

her hands and calling our names in astonishment

when meeting any of us as if we’re the embodiment

of life’s goodness. She is kissing Jarek on the top of his head

as he sits at the table drinking black tea, her touch telling him

he is always the first and only great love of her life,

and this life has been a continual unfolding of homecoming.

 

This is Maura, so alive — that sheen, that hue, that lilt —

that her name beats in our hearts as we say, Maura, Maura, Maura,

wherever you are, know we love you keenly, we carry you

with us, we shine with the light you made out of this life.

3 thoughts on “This is Maura: Everyday Magic, Day 194

  1. I didn’t know Maura, but your poem makes me wish that I had. What a beautiful soul she is…and you have celebrated her with your beautiful soul and words, ah me…

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