You've left now
I haven't heard from you in years
First there was the thought
Of Allen Ginsberg's Kaddish
For his mad mother
Who walked into the sea
At the end of a dream saying
'Try to remember me'
Then, opening Kathleen Raine
At random
To the final poem of a volume she wrote once
And the line
'The rose is the heart of heaven'

Surely I was part of the unfolding
Of that tragic uncertain core
Moving outward in you, leafing
Before your life leaped in the ether
Now transcendent from the unfolding
That goes on
Beyond sight color touch
Sending back messages from the depth
I don't hear

Rose Cecelia Ray as Grandmother - July 1968

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