Verse one from my sonnet to our infant daughter, Mary Therese Sachteleben who passed into the arms of Jesus on Jan. 5, 2001.
her eyes, green-gray still waters, do not cry
not mirror nor window of soul-dark spaces,
guardians hold prisoner, secrets shy
in soft tranquil deep and twilight traces
her skin, like dogwood blossoms translucent
rose petal fair and water-lily pale
heaven-bound as nimbus, storm-cloud spent
fresh as a lamb, nested quiet in vale
no tears descend this tender, pallid cheek
no sorrow escapes this unworldly maid
no companion shares nor solace does seek
perfect in slumber, unmoving and staid
Silent in her grave, somber and death-cold
Never feels pain, nor mother-arms enfold.