Laurel Crown

(In Memoriam to Virginia Cummins)

I saw the trenchant beauty of her soul

When first she bade me enter her retreat,

Gave of her manna that I might be whole.

Compassion's sandals were upon her feet,

About her form, the robe of love; her scarf

Of shining moon-glow faith--Now she has rowed

Across the Singing River; at the wharf

Of sunrise, views the fields of earth she sowed

With lilies, burgeoning, bursting into bloom.

She steps from her bright craft of song to weave

A pattern for the angels on the loom

Of Heaven as she sings. So do not grieve

But hear her lyrics, for she is not dead!

She lives! The laurel crown upon her head.