When grief strikes, it strikes with a huge blow. That's why when it strikes we always out of sorts and out of air cause it knocks the life out of us and in that moment nothing makes sense. Death is as certain as life, and for proof of life something must die. This is to say that all that dies must have had life in them and just like any cycle it must come to an end.

Yesterday I received sad news of the passing of my mum's friend. She was an elderly woman, the agemate of my grandma, so to me she was like my grandma too. She was also my friend and she'd be the voice of reason in my head when it was all chaos. And though I understand its life, it still hurts. For her passing has been so sudden. What brings me comfort is she's now once more reunited with my mum singing hymns for they seemed refuge in God. That's why I wrote a poem to match her shared devotion of a life well lived.

Oh Lord keep my flame on for just long enough to write ✍🏾 all the pieces of life's many stories. Don't leave it on for even a second more for I make the most of all my days

In God's time we all go back to him

And it's only in deep sleep,

that we are able to ascend to him

So that our souls he keeps

In God's time we leave this earth

Back to our first homes

And it's our time on this earth

That determines if by he's side we'll have a home

In God's time we return to He's keep

To his hold to take into account

Of all the days that we did keep,

He's word for every action he does count

In God's time we all rest

And forever we remain in that way

So rest well dear rest

It is well cause that's all our way

Forever missed.