Coda
Dusk
I’ve just arisen from the hammock
after gazing at the dappled leaves
until shadows shouldered in
drawing the drapes of daylight
towards close
on this momentous day
An enormous owl glides so close
I feel the whoosh of her wings
ruffle my hair
She arcs up in the motion of swiping a tear
and alights on a low branch, facing me
Yes, I feel your presence. Yes.
* * *
This day, “the people”
12 of us
gathered in a courtroom
to witness a plea of guilty:
Careless driving resulting in death
the death of shining light
Seana Lowe Steffen
The driver came in alone
disembodied, quivering
desperately fragile and closed
in a shell of protective fear
No eye contact, no connection
as he used the fewest words possible
to enter his plea
Then, the people spoke
Barron first, Seana’s beloved
He honored her, their divine connection
and invoked love and acceptance
requesting that the driver not “be sentenced to”
but rather engage in community service
that he use service as an opportunity
to be fully present and honor all that Seana stood for
Barron lifted his arms, his heart, his words
to Seana’s radiance in the room
a beautiful photo bringing forth her essence
her light beaming through all of us, witnessing
In a moment of silence
the driver finally broke open
his tears a welcome relief to us all
Then came her mother’s words
and they were masterful, profound
capturing all of Seana’s humanity
She wasn’t perfect; she made mistakes
But she never made the same mistake twice
She learned and grew
always striving, stretching
seizing each day as a chance
to become a better version of herself
Her words directly addressed the driver
and with the loving-kindness of a strong mother
she said, in essence
Wake up; you have work to do
Go do good work in the world, for yourself and for all of us
Now the judge cried too
She also admonished
You had choices, and you could have made different ones
She sentenced 300 hours of community service
in social or environmental justice, reiterating
Do it with your whole self, do it in love
She acknowledged that it isn’t often like this
It could have been a day of
anger, bitterness, hurt, accusation, shame
Instead, it was a day of
acceptance, compassion, unity
Guided by the big question
What serves the highest benefit for all?
We concluded
The people cried and hugged and said our good-byes
The driver went to sign his paperwork
But later in the parking lot, three of us lingered, including Barron
The driver emerged, now walking with purpose, embodied again
His blonde hair caught the late afternoon light as he looked our way
and broke into a small, but genuine smile
Loved, accepted, ready to carry the sun
* * *
Full dark now
Cicadas sing as I blow out the candles: 5-4-3-2-1
and once again begin with an ending
Goodnight, light
- Cyndi Gueswel, 2019
