Things we cannot see, but are there – faith has to be high on my list. This is an old poem and could do with some work. I wrote it when my Dad died and have not been able to revisit it yet.
Squeaking shoes
on machine polished floors.
Rattling cups
on trolley slow, advancing.
Murmured conversations
behind closed doors.
Lowered eyes
sideways glancing.
Busy hands
complete gentle chores,
tender rhythms,
complex fingers dancing
Silent room,
breath held,
surely now
it must be done.
Dry mouth whispers,
“Remember,”
Grey lips curve,
“I’m arriving – not departing.”
Sally J Blackmore's Blog 
wow – think i never read a more peaceful post about death as yours sally…but this is because of the faith…arriving, not departing…brought tears to my eyes..
this is tender…and sad as well…brings back memories of losing my wifes mom…yep you got me too…smiles
You held it very well and spilled out your heart in the last lines.
I like it…very powerful message of life and death.
I suffered a loss in May, thank you for the gentle reminder, potent and kind of you to share it with us.
Thanks all for the positive comments – and my thoughts to those who recognise the feelings…
I like it! It seemed a very calm passing. I am arriving… I have been blessed today.
Thank you for sharing.