At the point in time when I am dying

I know that you will fulfill your promise,

to bathe my body in precious unguents

in the same way you did for your Mother

 

such a beautiful showing of devotion it was

that I tearfully, repectfully, witnessed.

Your taking of each of her hands in turn

bathing each one, in sweet smelling fragrant oil

before rearranging them again, by her side.

 

But should you die before me, my love,

I know that I will find myself, remembering this,

most of all, the slow and gentle way, you combed her hair

taking a small piece to carry with you throughout your life

 

and of course, I too will keep my promise

to do the very same for you, and though retaining a lock of your hair

how very much would I have lovingly preferred it to be

a piece of your Soul.