Two years ago today my aunt passed away. This is the poem I wrote after her death.

For some freedom comes with
a missed breath and a stilled heart.
Laboring is finally over.
Life was too unkind to them distorting its meaning.
They were blinded by rejection,
and peace was always out of reach.
You watch them suffer endlessly;
ever pursuing them with your unfailing love.
But they cannot recognize it.
They are to broken to receive it.
You wait with infinite patience for them
to stop fighting and surrender the pain.
They struggle with you their entire life
until they are driven to you out of fear.
Then you lay them down on a bed of freedom,
and pick them up with your everlasting arms.