Shirley A. Guth

I am saddened by Shirley's passing, and I give my heartfelt condolences to all of the Guths and Solomons. She deeply loved, and was loved by, her family of course. But besides that, what a fine lady! She had such a good mind. Our lives were enriched by her life and I cherish my memories of her and of the Guths and the Solomons.##imported-begin##David Greenspan##imported-end##

Shirley / Id like to address you directly/ if I may.. I am ill prepared to talk to angels / though I know / yours just tapped your shoulder / & we all one day / must follow , but I still need you to intervene for me ... I cannot follow you now/ because I am incomplete , I still have some work to do here,/some unfinished Karma to burn off , & Im still attached to the form you left here , though/ Here , where we called you daughter / called you sister / lover , friend, wife & mother / all the sacred identities you embodied for us .../ you are now / fully in the realm of / all origins, all beginnings/& fully present in the sight of a god / of your understanding / where every tender hour we had with you here/ is held / in an open palm of compassion/in a perfect forever... you were never out of his heart / when he let you take birth / & when your breathing/ ceased ...Shirley / it's late & I have to say goodnight to you/ but my tongue bridled by sorrow / will these tears be enough ?/ Oh, there will be so many stories you will share with us/ when we meet again at the water's edge ! Your sparkling eyes / alive with delight / telling of your passage to the new jerusalem , & how it already felt like home when you got there/ & that we were not to mourn for long / because theres lots of room here for everyone / & we've got all the time outside of time in the world / to walk together again / through these gardens / the eternal pastures of your sweetest dreams.. / I will meet you there ,Shirley / & you can teach me the language of angels../ & then you can tell me all your stories again...##imported-begin##David Frye##imported-end##

Her leaving tears at my lifeI can feel the pullresistance is automaticand futile,the pull is irresistible.I am torn bit by bit.How is it possible to relinquish the grip?I thought I could hold on to you foreveras you held on to me oncein the beginningMy beginning, your endWe are infants, irritable, crankyYou have your colic, too.You keep us all up with your fussy sleep and cough at night.My beginning, my endstill holding on to your hand, a finger, a memorythe pull when you are gonethat I shall follow ---##imported-begin##Steve Guth##imported-end##