Surfacing, your hands part the curtain of the water.
You were under long enough to face not being.
Like any sprout, you rise toward light.
I should feel sorrow, but with your faith,
I feel your conquering joy.
It is complete. You’re free.
Trust served you well, my friend.
As far as I can tell, heaven’s here
and also hell, but I feel you lifted.
Beyond my understanding, you are safe,
as are your parents before you.
Children long for even the effigy
of you, who cannot be absent. I know
you knew that this, after everything,
would be the way toward love.