She had a thick mop of blond curly hair and she always skipped, I never remember her just walking. Her curls would bounce up and down but what amazed me, her hair never became untidy. Mine always looked a mess. I would brush it, pin it in place but as I turned my head the hair would go it's own way.
A few years ago, Sandy and I were talking about beliefs and we were way apart in our ways but I sent her a poem I had written and she loved it and told me that although we didn't believe in the same things the poem said what she had always felt. I will copy it here for anyone that would like to read it.
I closed my eyes as I am bathed in warm glowing light
And my spirit soars as if I am carried on a soft gentle breeze.
I am at peace with my self and my world.
Warmth surrounds and I feel love pulling me,
Forward and backward but it is time for me to take a rest
Within the Halls of Waiting.
Calls of greetings reach out to me, friends and kin are waiting,
Arms stretch out to hold me, an air of happiness at my restoration,
Great feasting planned for my return.
Time to rest, heal body and soul, rejuvenate from the cares and pain of life,
Sadness at those left behind, maybe one day to re-meet
To drink from the Well of forgetfulness.
All to soon I feel the pull and darkness slowly closes in,
Spinning, spinning downwards, firm bands wrap around me
And darkness is complete.
It is quiet but there is a soft stirring and a new love begins.
With a rush, I emerge, a new place, a new time, new life.
So the cycle begins and continues.
I shall try to sleep now. It is 1AM and I have to get up early in the morning,