Passing on

They speak of it as
passing on.
I haven't found a better way of saying
what it means.

But I surely know that when you
piece things together once the box has been
overturned,
you make sense in a
bigger way or
 not at all.

It's the bigger way that catches
my attention.

Passing?
What sort of idea is that?

I was baptised into Christ's body
three times.
I was on a quest.

I was also accepted as a Buddhist even though
I hadn't applied.

So words don't scare me.

I don't think you pass on.
I have so many dear friends and family
telling me something I can't quite
hear.

I have something in the heart that
touches what I can't possibly describe in
words.

I see it often,
and hear it, every hour,
but I can't say how it leaps
back into a believable world.

I am holding hands with a multitude of people who have
moved me, in so many ways, and
I am simply grateful.

I think we're all going on,
not passing.