This was written by a friend of mine from my Paris days. She sent it to Braedwyn a few days after he died.
Where are you now voyager?
Blown from earth by the mouth of Volcanoes,
you flew by ancient wind paths traveled by birds of all species.
When they saw one so little, they nestled your small body
under their wings with grace,
feathers so warm, like a blanket of Mommy and Daddy.
And when you awake you are a voyager, passing moons and stars,
that which all of humankind has written of and pondered for all of
time.
Catching the tail of a comet, your baby finger tips feel the dust
of the universe,
tendrils of gossamer, the woven fabric, the womb of mankind hold
you
suspended, rocking gentle to the rhythm of our hearts, as our love
caress with gentle breezes, your darling soul.