Today I wanted to hold
your hand
Not chain your soul to the chiseled blocks
of raw silence
promises so brittle
blown away
come and gone.
I had no words
they vanished
one by one at the news that you had left
had just been passing through
I had no sound
my words evaporated
to the ground
to the silent earth
conjured up prayers
that taste like stale communion bread
on my tongue
seeking nourishment for
my soul.
*Aztec stone sculpture
Joy
Is creating
Our favorite reindeer
Whose nose glows mindfully
Goodwill
*Poetry style ~ 1-2-3-4-1
Christmas ~ It makes us feel.
We inwardly wail and gnash our teeth
Or stoically keep a stiff upper lip
We wrap our gifts
Trim the tree, rearrange the Nativity…
And in the ritual, hope
To pass along the memories
To those who listen
Perhaps our children
Paying tribute to those we miss
Playing down the agonies
Elevating the bliss
A seasonal thaw, as if walking on stones
On the winter river
Frozen in place but beauteous ever
We find ourselves transfixed in this space
We’ve set aside for lost warm embrace.
And we hold it tight
For it is all we have
This celebration of lives lived, loved and lost
Consoling ourselves that we are present
With our presence, the best present,
Not a memory erased, hoping to return
At the end of the new glittery year that awaits.
She said, stop praying for me, Mother
I never prayed enough
to stop her
I have stopped praying now
Death whispers her name.
Time has slowed
Silence has replaced
The susurrous swirl
Of conversation
I whisper her name
I miss you more
Because your loss
Was replaced
With flowers.
They have died too.
I do not feel the demons now I do not feel the fear today She is at rest and cannot be reached Her angel guards this space I hear God whispering i will never leave you comfortless I’ll come to you I’ll stay.
You were built from the stones
No proof needed, open ended
But before you go off aimlessly
Wandering through the forests
Of sandalwood, and high places
I will take off my glasses
Watchful as a big cat
For the sound of footprints
Lest on too close sight, I miss this
Darling illusion, which struck fear and terror into me.
The art of losing is not too hard to master
I desired my dust to eventually mingle with yours
Anticipating the splash,
The forsaken cry , a rock skipped on water
Rippling, then smoothing the Holy surfaces
Knowing that I have left mine too late
Misjudged your frailties
What draws friends together
To never be alone forever.
My wing is ready for flight,
I would like to turn back. If I stayed timeless time,
I would have little luck. Gerherd Scholem
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