Sono’s Death Poem
Don’t just stand there with your hair turning gray,
Soon enough the seas will sink your little island
So while there is still the illusion of time,
Set out for another shore.
No sense packing a bag.
You won’t be able to lift it into your boat.
Give away all your collections.
Take only new seeds and an old stick.
Send out some prayers on the wind before you sail.
Don’t be afraid.
Someone knows you’re coming.
An extra fish has been salted.
-Mona “Sono” Santacroce 1928-1995 She wrote this poem in hospice in San Francisco in the tradition of Japanese death poems written by Zen monks and others just before dying.
I found Sono’s Death Poem when I was sorting through Bobi’s possessions in Santa Cruz. She died on December 13, just a few days after my last post. I left for Santa Cruz on the 17th and stayed in the little blue redwood cabin by the water where we had planned to spend time together. I had gone to look at it in July when I was visiting Bobi. We agreed it was a splendid sanctuary. We would cook and talk and listen to the waves crash on the shore.
But alas, it was meant to be the place where I would hold vigil. Tend to Bobi’s things. Search and find the gold nuggets left for me to discover in notes, dreams, reflections. Where I would light candles and sort through all the paper scraps and old photos and pebbles, and driftwood, her old blue sweater. That I wore while excavating. Here in this place by the sea.
I brought candles. I wrote. I sifted. I sat by the door and watched the waves and the rain and listened to the howling of the wind.
It was stormy and dark. Rain beat against the old redwood walls. Gusts of wind whirled outside and whistled through the door. I peered into the dark waves and tried to see her little boat. Was she warm? Was she afraid?
Each day I went to Bobi’s place and helped clean out and sort through her things. I met her dear and lovely Santa Cruz people, Debra, Jim, and Annette. And her housemate, Leslie. I sat each night reading scraps of paper, notes, poems, going through old photos, letters, journals, to-do lists. It was and still is a tender time. I can feel Bobi all around.
Moved by the 49-day passage through the bardo that the Tibetan Buddhists honor, I have concocted my own 49-day observance and ritual. Today is day 19. I light candles each night, offer poems, and send out waves of love. I tune my dials to the frequencies and weather conditions for the passage to the far shore.
She’s almost halfway there. I can sense the floating movement of her small vessel. The way she turns her face upward towards the bright constellations, her guides. One hand in the water. Dophins and sea turtles and manta rays dive and surface around her offering their protection.
2 days before I came home, I went to this hilltop in Soquel across from the crematorium as Bobi was cremated. I put her beloved soul collage cards on the dash and read some poems to her. Also I ate a sandwich and had a cup of hot soup. She would have approved of this v.v.v. much.
Back home in Los Angeles, winter’s darkest days are behind us. The new year rises like a giant sun in the east.
The back patio fills with light, clouds, rain, and wind. I found a tiny dead sparrow in the lane the other night and placed him under the lavender.
The cat posse scamper and play and fight and jump and sharpen their claws on the couch. We take naps together.
The moon waxes then wanes as the days pass. Owls hoot in the tall trees.
Tomorrow will be Day 20 of Bobi’s long journey. I keep vigil each night. There is a metaphorical black ribbon hung over the door of Moss Cottage. We, the inhabitants, are watchful in our solitude. Finding patches of sunlight. Present for what each day brings. Not moving to the left or right. Staying here in the middle. The very center of the great unknown.
About 6 weeks before she died she sat at an overlook in Santa Cruz in her car. “I really don’t want to be done here,” she told me as she looked out at the sun glinting on the water. “I don’t want to be done.”
The day before she died, her good friend and drum mentor Jim brought his buffalo drum into her bedroom at home. He played it for her. She lay on her bed with her face in the sunshine in a semi-conscious state, eyes closed. She raised her eyebrows in response to the drumming.
And finally, a fragment of one of her favorite poems & blessings that I will read at her memorial and that I offer you today, on this first day of the new year.
Oh Mary Ann I am so very sorry for the passing of Bobbi. Your photos and words are just beautiful. Sending love and light. ❤️❤️❤️❤️
My God! this was outrageously beautiful. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I can see her boat sails turning into the wind!
I am so very sorry for your loss. This is a beautiful tribute.
Well. I was crying by the end of this beautiful tribute and expression of grief. Thank you for sending this out to us all and sharing this lovely deep way of mourning that seems so helpful not only for you but for Bobi.
Thank you so much for this beautiful post during your grief. The line “Someone knows you’re coming” made me weep and has been echoing in my head. Thank you.
What a beautiful tribute to your friend. It brought me much peace. We should all be so lucky.
You said it all, Mary Ann. You really know how to express emotions and relationships with people. Thank you.
As usual, your profound ability to feel deeply and express yourself so eloquently is soul-stirring. While I am saddened by the grief you must endure, your tender and poetic tributes are points of light that help us all navigate through the darkness. Thank you for sharing your heart and light.
This is so tender. Bobi could not have a more sensitive and blessed goodbye.
Dear Mary Ann
I am so sorry for the loss of your dear friend.
As your vigil grows to a close
The daylight may seem less bright
But the night sky will sparkle vividly
As you find a dazzling new star
In the constellations.
Susan
What a blessed friendship you had with Bobi. She knows you are with her on her journey.
Bless you for sharing……………….having lost my dear dear friend in November, I was privileged to attend her memorial and meet some of her special friends and renew acquaintance with her daughter
❤️❤️❤️
Such a beautiful post.
Oh MaryAnn, I am so sorry for the loss of your precious friend. Your pain is palpable, and your musings really resonated with me. I just lost my beloved father on Christmas morning. Reading about your thoughts & feelings touched me deeply. I will be thinking of you during this difficult time. I have always felt a kindred spirit in you, & as we both navigate these difficult days ahead, I expect that will grow. I’m sure the cat posse is of great comfort to you, as my Mr. T is to me. Wishing you moments of peace to feel the presence of your special person. Keeping you in my heart. Nan Dodson
MAM ~ I am so sorry for the loss of your dear friend. Sending huge hugs your way ~
bobbie
Oh MaryAnn, what a beautiful tribute to Bobi. I’m so very sorry. My heart aches for you and her sweet friends.
The heart never forgets
Your post touches my heart deeply. I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend.
This is such a moving tribute to Bobi, Mary Ann. Thank you so much for sharing.
Wow. Hugs to you.
xx
You loved and love well.
Oh, my heart.
What a lovely tribute to your friend.
My condolences to you. What a beautiful way to say goodbye.
I am at a loss for words. You made me cry. Grief is the price we pay for love.
So sorry to hear about your loss. May God comfort you during this time.Sara
❤️
I am so very sorry that you lost your dear friend. My heart is with you. May your beloved friend’s memory comfort you and be a blessing on the world.
oh, if only to find peace with ‘not being sone here’. hugs to you in your loss. i’m so sorry.
oops ‘done’, not sone.
xox
I send my condolences to you on the loss of your friend. Your tribute is very beautiful. Thamkyou for sharing it with us.
She’s warm and unafraid. Because she has you.
One of my dearest friends died on Thanksgiving day and I know some of the pain you have right now, I read a quote that I think was from Hafiz that goes something like this…though your body is far from mine there is a passage from my heart to yours. I can feel that every day and believe it. May it give you the comfort it does me. Where there is great love, there is great grief. May her journey back to the stars be not only peaceful but glorious.
What a beautiful tribute. I feel your pain and also your peace. May she travel in calm waters.
What a beautiful testament to LOVE and friendship.
I am so moved to be a witness to your deep relationship with Bobi. How amazing to walk with another so deeply. Isn’t that what we all want? To be seen, known. You have honoured her well. Thank you for sharing your experience.
Oh my. Mary Ann Moss. Everyone needs a Mary Ann Moss. Everyone.
I’m sorry for your loss. Your friend was well loved.
Thank you for sharing this. It’s very moving, and I think evokes ideas and desires for some of us, wanting to hold vigil in this way when a loss happens.
So very beautiful, Mary Ann. I did not know of this ritual, but I’m making note of it.
Much love and peace to you
Gwen
That poem!
I’m sorry for your loss. Beautiful writing.
May we all have a friend such as you, true and deep.
What a lovely tribute to your dear friend. Thank you for sharing it with all of us. I feel like a better person for knowing you both.
Gentle hugs and love to you, MaryAnn. And safe and peaceful passage to Bobbi. X
It is the loveliest of the lovely messages those of us who mourn the losses of dear ones. You are a magician with words, enough that, although I didn’t know her, I grieve her loss also. I send deep sympathies to you and all of her friends.