Today, I write for M...

I rose to the news that you transitioned.
After days and weeks and months of figuring,
of feathers kissing your skin,
children and grandchildren's hands moving gently on your softest skin,
on your tiny, precious physical self.
You are free from pain and suffering.
Your spirit soaring high, you are larger than life.
Queen. 
Loved by so many. All who you encountered.
Generous with your very you smile.
A brilliant wit, a naïve-seeming openness.
A twinkle.
Fiercely compassionate, indignant of injustice. 
Brave of tongue, unwilling to hold back truth.
Able to see the light in each of us.
Especially within your beautiful, creative tribe. 

Now you breathe in peace. 
Thoughts quieted.
Your work is done, 
and you rise.
Letting us know how it is out there, on the other side, in your ways. 
Your magic, only magnified. 
We wear your impact on us,
all who you loved,
like a quilt of a thousand colors over our shoulders
as we stand in the cool of a September dawn,
in awe of the beauty of the sunrise.