Poem for Dona Delia

Dedicated to Dona Delia

By the snap of his fingers, the Lord can take our life. Taken away from the darkness, and swept up to the light. As we take our final blink, the spirit ventures down and carries our soul with the wind. Our body stays cold and pale with our family and friends. They bury us respectfully, as their own spirits bend. For they realize a person they love, they will never see again until they pass away themselves. But what we do not acknowledge, is that Delia isn't dead. She is the sunrise, and sunset, she is in the wind's mighty breeze. She is that special bird that is perching in a tree. She is the flow of a stream, she is that angel over our shoulders, watching over you and me.