THIS MORNING

we went to the cremation of our neighbour Marie-Luise, that started at nine o'clock. Yesterday evening her son visited us to tell us that his mother had passed away in the early hours of wednesday. In peace, he told us. Earlier than expected perhaps but now her pains and suffocation has stopped.
Music was played when we entered the aula and then the poem Do not stand at my grave and weep of Mary Elizabeth Frye was recited, a part of the Bhagavad gita was read and also a part of the RigVeda. One of her two sons had prepaired lovely words. It was when her other son spoke spontaneously (I think) and a bit clumsy my eyes were filled with tears. Sometimes perfect acts and words do not move one as much as awkward ones. Then started heavenly music and that released my emotions a bit.
Our neighbour adhered theosophical beliefs and she was confident that she would enter a new life after her death. Thence the words of the poem recited: I am a thousand winds that blow.
Coming home I watched some ballet videos starring Polina Semionova and that reconciled me with life again. The very cold and strong wind prevented me going outside.
After lunch the weather got a bit better and I cycled to the waterbirds in the park.
Enjoying the bit of sunshine.

My haiku:

The silence after
Death is overpowering
As no other is

And the proverb by Cervantes:

Blessings on him/her that first invented sleep.