What follows is a combination of poetry written after my son's death by suicide and writing during the journey of my mom's death from kidney disease.
Photo by author
Visitations -
those moments
when loved ones
who have passed
make their presence known
A balloon landing in a tree says
"I Miss You Mom"
A timer goes crazy
spinning and beeping
in the middle
of a family dinner
Photo by Joshua Newton on Unsplash/a>
A night of dreams
visitations of the past
moments of angst
disappointments relived
Photo by Becca Tapert on Unsplash
Photo credit: Jason Williard (1983-2016); one who succombed to the darkness
Those days
when grief wanders in
like the tendrils of fog
in the river valley
slowly engulfing
my heart and mind
Slipping behind
wandering off on my own path
letting it all go
I wander this foggy path
going nowhere
not caring
just being
no beginning
no end
tears ride
at the edges
What happens when a life is filled with death
when the blanket of grief lays over our days
when the sun no longer shines
and the waters flow continuously
What happens when we surrender
sleep when sleep wants to come
quit trying to force it into a container
move when we want to move
stop the incessant need to produce
cease the endless struggle
slip slowly into slumber
sit silently in surrender
sing songs of celebration
Grief
the quiet
where there used to be conversation
the emptiness
where there used to be connection, communion
the shadows
of what used to be
it's all the quiet, empty shadows
that haunt me
that leave me wanting
sinking my shoulders
drawing forth tears
for what used to be
Some nights run on forever, fire pulsing. The mind tries to swallow us whole. Last night was one of those nights. Below are the bits of poetry running me round and round. Note, I am not a danger to myself. Suicide is not an option. I saw and felt it with my son. I won't repeat the pattern. So, I journey through the pain of loss and love and trying to find my place in the world.
Alone again
like always
forever
never quite connecting
can't get comfortable
feel like the misfit
the square that doesn't fit
with the circles
or is it the other way around
Lately,
I've been an infrequent visitor
The best pathway I know
kneel down at the altar
bow my head
give it up to the Divine
maybe cry a few tears
say a few words of gratitude
get up off that bench
and walk