Echoing down through the corridors of time,
Upon the lap I hear the sweet songs and rhymes,
Hands gathered in the stroll to the glorious bed,
Her passions emerge upon sight of her stead.

They wave and shimmer in the whispering breeze,
She nurtures the colors and fragrance of tease.
Gathering their seeds as the blooms slowly fade.
She dreams of spring when rebirth is gently made.

One hundred one seasons had drifted away,
She rests now beyond time in the eternal sway.
The flowers she loved do not cling to the grave,
I wondered about and found not where she lay,

Lost to the earth but not to the heart,
I hear her sweet whispers a love that never parts.


Kuan Gung *


Magdalena was my Great Grandmother that at age 3,began to teach me how to read by memorizing each word.
She loved her flowers and garden.
I spent countless hours with her when I was very young upon her lap reading and listening to her stories.
She was a compassionate and strong woman whom I loved dearly as a child.
At age 101 she passed away. I was 11 years old.
Many years later I went to find her only to learn, she was no where to be found.
Her grave was unmarked with no head stone.
She had 9 children and lost three.
The cemetery has her listed, but as to where she lays, we'll never know.

*strider333