You prepared us so gently for your death. All those years ago constantly reminding us that one day you would be gone. Making sure we would know how to carry on. Always letting things go, handing things on. Just reaching out an occasional guiding finger to the tiller when the mists of samsara obscured the way.

All the same, even though I knew this day would come, it seems as if today the sun shines dull. The only light is the spark of Dharma you gave me to pass on.

(Tuesday 30th Oct 2018)