Medicine & Letting Go
Poem - In My Heart Forever
Journey of Hearts
A Healing Place in CyberSpaceTM
by Cynthia Taylor
The time has come for me to release
Free to fly high above this
Where the flowers forever bloom
The ultimate love fills the
In my attempt to try to keep
I've only been able to hold
Not realizing that I have to
let you go
I can't hold on.
I'll no more keep your pain alive,
I won't try to hold you down.
I'll let you fly on to higher
My grief has left a numbness,
as if this isn't real
You are in my heart forever,
but I know I have to let you
Laugh as a child that feels
the joy of the moment.
Play among the rivers flowing
through the hills.
Roam the fields of daisies.
Fly to the top of the mountains.
With closed eyes, I see you among
And the Butterfly in all its splendor
High above the clouds.
Your presence blows through
me with the breeze.
Your smile beams down on through
The full moon brings the light
of your laughter to my mind.
of your beauty and freedom now.
Leaving your love for me lingering
in my world.
|About the Author
Cynthia Taylor lost her oldest
brother, Ronnie Johnson, in December 1997 in a car accident. He was
killed instantly in a car accident. No pain.
She'd had a chance to get to
reconnect with this brother to help make her dream home come to life. Her
Christmas present in 1996 was to have her brother finish their dream home.
He was a carpenter and painter, and they had bought a very old home which
needed great help. After working in the home for two years in our spare
time, Cynthia realized that little was getting accomplished. In January
1997, her brother started tearing the house apart. During this year her
brother was a part of their daily life, "I can't describe how precious
that time was, even as it was going by. I saw it in his
eyes also. We just really enjoyed
our time together."
This poem was written in February,
as a way of dealing with the loss of her dear brother. She wrote in a message
to this site "Before his death I seldom noticed butterflies and they held
no significance for me. Ever since his death, with each butterfly I see
I can smile and think of him in his new form. I have had a really hard
time letting him go. The only thing that has helped has been the reminder
of how much better off he is now.
Last updated August 16, 1998
The photographs of the Bluebells are from Aspen
© 1998 Kirsti A. Dyer, MD, MS
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