Diane, the seeking huntress, with the wise sly smile,
Treading, dancing, flying through the woods.
The snow and ice and rain and sun are details
To the main act: Diane listening and laughing at one with the world.

I loved her, I learned from her, and knew her love and care.
And now the world of her possibilities is cut short.

To mourn at a distance, to live at a distance
Was never Diane, but to embrace life and love and grief
Was all at once the way she lived, the life she taught.

Only the wilderness could be as real as Diane was real
And so the wilderness became a constant home for her heart
And my heart was oftimes with her in those spaces.

My image and dream of heaven is a murky one,
But I think that to receive Diane's sad passing,
Heaven must have gained woods and lakes and wilderness in plenty,
Home for her open wounded heart, her quiet contemplation, her gentle smile, and her hearty laughter.