Remembering Soley

I have no philosophy to explain
why the music stops
or to tell why little children
blow upon their hands
and cannot make them warm.

On a summer’s day
why does a butterfly flapping its wings
on the other side of the earth
create a storm? A throw
of the dice won’t change chance.

Under the natural span of grief we lie
shadowed by a world that’s torn.
Things seem more fragile
than they did before.
Hands feel worn.

But speak Soley’s name
and the room fills up.
No ambassador, passing
could make such a claim
to be true to Iceland’s molten heart.

In the end, we find
it’s a simple thing to say
that we loved her for the good
that she was, and feel sharply
this intolerable loss.

What’s best? To be kind
as Soley was, to laugh like her.
Light heart, clear spirit.
We touch the space where you were
and feel your presence still.


Our friend Soley Mangal died in a tragic accident last weekend. She was only 41. Soley was born in Iceland where her parents still live. She was a very kind lady who loved children. I wrote this poem in rememberance of her and read it yesterday at the family's memorial service held at the Norwegian Seaman's Church in Le Vesinet. Our thoughts are with her husband, her children and all her family at this sad time.