In Memory of Lisa Knapp Monohan
You said goodbye in a dream, before the before the lilacs faded,
when forget-me-nots spotted the lawn like a patchwork quilt,
waiting for the daisies to bloom.
A red cardinal greeted me on the way to the hospital
and a black crow swooped along the road,
reminding me I was not alone.
The forecasted thunderstorms never came,
although the air smelled like rain.
Clouds painted the atmosphere in green and gray.
My pent-up grief and sorrow saturated
the caverns and crevices of my joints and muscles.
I drove south out of the storm-quenched valley,
winding along a daffodil-spotted country road
to a lakeside resort-town filled with beautiful people.
There you lay enshrouded in the hospital room
while outside the sun shone bright.
Surrounded by daughters and sons,
you remained unmoving while they wept,
unmoving and unable to bring them comfort,
as a mother aches to do.
We blessed your hair, your brow, your heart.
I kissed your forehead, cold to the touch.
The soft scent of patchouli laid against my lips.
I held your hand, your aura gone, leaving skin and bone behind,
the heady healing of Myrrh fragrant between us.
The part of you I loved is free, free, free—
your empty vessel a reminder that life is for the living.
We blessed your feet and sent you on your way,
waiting for the Aries Moon to say farewell.
You, forever the Phoenix rising from the ashes,
will live on in the in-betweens,
in the fiery sunsets, the soothing dawns;
in the black cloak of a dark moon wrapped around your memory.
The caw of a crow and raven echoes in my mind,
and I hear you cackle, then heave a heavy sigh,
whispering a vow to visit with me in my dreams
where lilacs and forget-me-nots bloom together,
forever.
Janine Phillips
May 17, 2025
Janina Grey 