Early this morning, my dear grandma Stevenson passed away after various medical complications due to her long bout with diabetes and its damaging effects. There are many things that could be said about her, but it's too fresh to say anything at the moment. I will post a comforting poem from the pen of Emily Dickinson about the reality of the resurrection and the need for us all to have our masts retrimmed and our sails redecked. My grandma, who needed to have one of her legs amputated, is one step closer to that renewal.
Adrift! A little boat adrift!
And night is coming down!
Will no one guide a little boat
Unto the nearest town?
So Sailors say - on yesterday -
Just as the dusk was brown
One little boat gave up its strife
And gurgled down and down.
So angels say - on yesterday -
Just as the dawn was red
One little boat - o'erspent with gales -
Retrimmed its masts - redecked its sails -
And shot - exultant on!
