It's been so long since I last posted a blog. But I need to post this one, put it out into the ether, express this.
I know I will have to grieve you,
Your head resting on my shoulders
as we lie here, in stasis.
I find myself staring ahead, at the photo of Burgh Island on your wall,
framed with uneven wood ends
which your mother probably found near the estuary.
Or your sister.
In the distance the sun is setting on this beautiful place,
in the foreground waves lap blunted rocks which are about to be consumed altogether.
Your toy monkey's legs dangle aimlessly over the top,
sits comfy on the frame,
blank expression on its face,
unaware of all that exists in this room.
Shadows rest on the blind from the trees which blow in the gale outside,
rain hits the window in saddening waves.
I've always loved you, you whose breathing is deepening on me,
you whose consciousness is fading from me into sleep.
You who came to save me,
you who now returns to the place from where you came,
but now with another home, in my heart, forever.
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Whatever has light shone upon it itself becomes light.
6 comments:
Natalie:
What a gracious, graceful poem--I like, especially, the sure and immediate presentation of the room, which allows me as the reader to enter into the poem, to witness this quiet, quiet place.
A profound silence is how I describe this poem as.
No words are needed.
Very poignant. I liked it very much. A lot of emotion. Do write more. :)
The simplicity & directness of this touches base.
A very mournful poem. Letting go of something is never easy. And this poem perfectly depicts the moments of taking everything in before having to say farewell.
A simple, effective poem – or have I got completely the wrong drift? Hehe
Nicely done.
To anonymous....
Of course, yes, you do have the right drift. Perhaps missing the element of grief felt though. And perhaps I didn't mention my desire for it to be different and not to have to part.
Natalie
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