Yesterday, one of my closest and most beloved family members died. I will write more, in the fullness of time, here, and elsewhere, but not yet.
A poem for my mother, July 15 When she was dying And I was in a different country I dreamt I was there with her Flying over the ocean very quickly, And arriving in the room like a dream And I was a dream, but the meaning was more Than a dream has – it was a moving over time And land, over water, to get love across Fast enough, to be there, before she died, To lean over the small, huddled figure, In the dark, and without bothering her Even with apologies, and be a kiss in the air, A dream of a kiss, or even less, the thought of one, And when I woke, none of this had happened, She was still far distant, and we had not spoken.
Comments
Still, my sympathies, and more importantly, my prayers. Losing someone close is always hard, and, at Christmas, so much more.
I see from your post http://toddswift.blogspot.com/2008/11/poetry-and-religion.html that you are a man who wonders about the mystery of what may be out beyond. And you note well poetry is the standard of faith.
"One day, the poet who seeks a new religion may find an old faith waiting for him, where his journey began."
I am not among the atheist poets. If you also are not, remember the god who saves you. And, try CS Lewis' processing of his wife's death with his own faith in "A Grief Observed."
To quote poet John Donne, "As he that fears God fears nothing else, so, he that sees God sees everything else."
Please accept my heartfelt condolences.
Happy New Year!