Tags
Afterlife, Death, Death Poems, Dreams, Father, Loss, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Souls, Spirit, Spirits
Now, he is alive
only in dreams,
But they are vivid,
And real,
And the best of him.
My Father, In Dreams
13 Sunday Mar 2022
Posted in Poetry
Category Archives: Poetry
Toward Our Once Bright Existence
03 Thursday Feb 2022
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Afterlife, Aging, Beauty, Belief, Children, Death, Dying, Eternity, Family, Gratitude, Hope, Life, Loss, Love, Memory, Mothers, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Spirits
In the end, we don’t know
How the end will come,
Peaceful, as we sleep,
Or, under the thumb
Of morphine. Memories,
Like flotsam, from the depths
Of our once bright existence,
Form a tunnel toward our exit,
Each day, one step closer,
Almost touching what was lost:
mother, child, father.
A Broken Thing
26 Wednesday Jan 2022
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Broken, Children, Division, Divorce, Family, Forgiveness, Life, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Snake River
I’d be lying, if I said I didn’t know,
Years of turmoil, like a river,
With a dangerous undertow.
Like swimmers, outside their boat,
Unable to swim, thrown against rocks.
We were young, and bound together
By our children. Then, the talk:
You don’t love me, he said,
And, rather than saying it wasn’t true,
I asked, what does love have to do
With being married? We have kids.
We were pulled over, under a bridge,
Which spans the mighty Snake River.
We were both wrong, but does it matter?
Self-fulling, breakup chatter–
Prelude to the email I would find–
Betrayal, is not a kind way to end.
Twenty years later, still not friends,
Yet, we are friendly in our pain.
The sting of loss, defines a sting,
And taints our world, a broken thing.
Diminished, But Singing
04 Tuesday Jan 2022
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Courage, Death, Fall, Healing, Hope, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Song of Sorrow and Joy, Soul Poetry, Strength, Survival, Truth, Winter poem, Yearning
You must admit,
a song of sadness
Is a decent song;
A song of rage,
The songs we banged to
In our younger age,
That made us stand
And raise our fists–
Is better yet.
The rage is gone.
Somedays, sadness, too,
And happy tunes
Are few.
Yet, sing we must
To shake the silent woods.
Our souls,
They still have much to say,
Of getting past, beyond,
The dull,
Diminished days.
The Edges Begin to Blur
02 Sunday Jan 2022
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Aging, Belief, Death, Death Poems, Dying, Eternity, Fear of Death, Infinite, Life, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Survival, Winter poem
A fog over the snow-covered hills
Of the Palouse, loosed delineation
Of hill and road and sky,
It seemed an infinity of cloud,
A shroud, over our eyes,
As we returned from a ‘last visit,’
The one where we said ‘goodbye.’
A great chain is about to snap,
The ties that bind crackle,
Grow weak, tremble, cry:
This too shall pass, everything must die,
But at last, we don’t believe it’s true,
Do we? Life is all we’ve known,
And its roads extend for our ever,
And ‘our ever,’ doesn’t come to a tidy end,
But it does begin to blur at the edges.
2022
01 Saturday Jan 2022
Tags
Gratitude, Happiness, Hope, Life, Love, New Year, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Spirit, Survival, Yearning
The past,
And its happiness,
Sadness,
Must its minor role
Encompass,
As we seek renewal,
And move forward
Into the unknown
Abyss of a world
Made new by one day,
One day,
A New Year—
Think of it—
A chance,
A calling,
A maxim:
To start again.
Happy New Year, Friends everywhere!
Lost Child New Year
31 Friday Dec 2021
Posted in Poetry
Christmas is gone, and I am glad.
Does that make me a bad person,
I asked my husband, last night.
Can the child, finally, be lost forever?
Or is it latent, still, observing from afar?
If the child dies, does the body follow?
Those who live to one hundred
Always see themselves younger,
Or so I read, the others, dead,
Cannot speak to this.
Katherine died before Christmas;
Did she see herself sixty-five,
Or forty-five? Did she realize,
Or did she fantasize–hope?
It’s a fragile thing, hope.
The world conspires against hope.
And now, twenty twenty-two,
Tomorrow, we say, is New,
New, but is it really?
The latent child wants to speak;
I can’t hear what she’s saying–
Something about trying again,
To be better, to believe, to trust–
What is it I must do, child?
The Not So Little Things
29 Wednesday Dec 2021
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Aging, Death, Family, Fathers, Forgiveness, Happiness, Hope, Life, Love, Memory, My Dad, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Souls, Survival, Winter
“Weep for what little things could make them glad. Then for the house that is no more a house. (Directive, Robert Frost)
1.
The frosty backs of horses at the bale,
The red fence, framing the snow,
This is the beauty I found
In the extreme cold
of December.
And I remember
Wishing for it.
2.
Do you want to save this bird,
It was a falcon,
And it ran, with broken wing,
At the edge
Of a barbed wire fence.
He asked me, as he knew
I was a lover of wild things,
And a nurturer of broken wings.
I do, I said, I do.
Then, he was out of the car,
Walking among snow
And wounded bird.
I watched him from the backseat,
The car, I would someday wreck.
But that day, it was whole,
And we were whole,
And he returned, victorious,
Gloved hands,
Cradling broken bird.
3.
I don’t know why he gave it to her,
But she was in possession
Of his cowboy hat,
And she knew
I was the one who wanted it.
I was in possession of money,
And funny prankster that she was,
My sister knocked on my bedroom door.
She was having a yard sale in her room,
And I was invited to shop.
I can’t remember how much I spent,
But the hat became mine,
and I was wearing it.
He laughed when he saw me,
His big hat on my small head,
And heard the story of its quick journey
From her to me–
He’d given it to her for free–
But I didn’t care,
I wore that damn hat everywhere.
4.
Before I wrecked his car,
I slid his truck off an icy road
At two am, in a snowstorm.
I remember hiking to the first house,
And a man answered the door
In his underwear, staring dumbly
At me. I was desperate for a phone
To call my dad, praying he’d pick up,
Otherwise, I’d be stuck
With the undressed stranger.
He did, and soon my dad was sliding
down the dangerous hill,
In the car I’d soon wreck.
Next, he held his metal two-ton jack,
And ratcheted the truck up, and off,
And up and off, back
Onto the road, where the ice melted,
And the snow turned to rain,
And the sky filled with lightning,
But we survived, and now,
We can laugh at this story.
Preparing for Infinity
25 Saturday Dec 2021
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Death, Death Poems, Eternal, Hope, Infinite, Infinity, Life, Love, Multiverse, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Spirit, Survival, The Universe, Unity
In his last days, he contemplates this:
In the multiverse, our universe,
In the universe, our galaxy,
In the galaxy, our solar system,
And in that, our planet,
Where you find us,
Small as we are,
Celebrating
What it means to be eternal,
To join the stars,
To become one with love,
Two points on a line,
That extend forever.
The Chimes of Winter
23 Thursday Dec 2021
Posted in Poetry
The chimes of summer,
Are the same chimes as winter,
Hear them dangle their tangled songs,
As we wait for the cold snap,
As we waited through the heat wave,
As the birds sang, and died,
As the dog died,
As everything waits to die now,
Snatched in snow and cold.
Our lives play out,
The seasons bang on,
The seasons leave behind,
Like some great train,
With its clang and clack,
Plowing through snow and rain,
Unloading its passengers.
Song of Sorrow and Joy: 5
12 Sunday Dec 2021
Posted in Poetry
Song of Sorrow and Joy: 4
11 Saturday Dec 2021
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Death, Death Poems, Dying, Family, Forgiveness, Life, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Song of Sorrow and Joy, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Yearning
IV
Sit, and let me sing you a song,
Of our perfection,
And our imperfections:
No species sucks so bad
At getting what we want—
I’ll title it, Love.
Realization must come
Too late, or it’s not human.
Only in losing do we understand
The full measure of what we had,
Basically, chances, and with chance,
The opportunity to grasp —
It—
And I’m back to the title of the song—
Love,
And how we suck at it.
Song of Sorrow and Joy: 3
11 Saturday Dec 2021
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Children, Death, Death Poems, Dying, Forgiveness, Grace, Life, Longing, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Song of Sorrow and Joy, Soul, Souls, Spirit
III
And now, I pause
at the feet of your memory:
Your laughter,
before there was nothing
To laugh about,
Your strength,
Your fatal optimism in your strength.
I’ve learned,
Being a rock, a steady hand
Wasn’t always conducive
To being a full man.
And there is the regret,
(Mine, not yours),
But it’s too late for regrets.
We are who we are,
And so little escapes that reality;
What forms us,
Forms all others, formed me.
Sometimes, we are left to weep
at what could have been:
We could have called,
We could have written,
We could have cherished,
The moments we came
Wanting to be cherished.
I misspoke,
When I said imperfections fade away–
They don’t,
But there is no anger,
Only a dull futility:
The reality that is, versus
What we hoped it would be.
Song of Sorrow and Joy: 2
11 Saturday Dec 2021
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Death, Death Poems, Dying, Family, Fathers, Fear of Death, Forgiveness, Happiness, Infinite, Love, Memory, Parents, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Song of Sorrow and Joy, Soul, Souls, Spirit
II.
I’ve seen enough of spirit to know
that you’ll still be here
when I write of letting go.
How love becomes energy,
And energy can’t be destroyed.
The power of memory:
Imperfections, fade away,
Only Love remains,
As a steady anchor,
A steady hand through—
It’s been a while
since I’ve seen you laugh,
(There’s not much joy in dying,)
Yet, I remember your laughter, too,
Your tears wiped away from crying.
And it makes me smile now,
How we watched you break down,
Such a serious father,
Completely undone
By your laughter.
Song of Sorrow and Joy
10 Friday Dec 2021
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Death, Death Poems, Dying, Eternity, Family, Fear of Death, Forgiveness, Life, Loss, Love, Love Poems, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Sacred, Song of Sorrow and Joy, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Yearning
“Once I heard a song of sweetness,
As it cleft the morning air,
Sounding in its blest completeness,
Like a tender, pleading prayer;
And I sought to find the singer,
Whence the wondrous song was borne,
And I found a bird, sore wounded,
Pinioned by a thorn.”
I.
The song of joy comes
From the same place as sorrow:
All losses bound together
With all gifts,
Wonder and tragedy,
Sifted, then mixed.
I will hurt no more, I said,
And it was as if my soul
Was dead to happiness, too.
But now I stand,
Ready to let go of you.
These Silent Months
05 Sunday Dec 2021
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Death, Death Poems, Dying, Loneliness, Loss, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Yearning
These silent months:
No keys
Struck,
No strings
Plucked,
Or strummed,
No words strung together
To write a poem.
Said another way,
Everything that heals
Has faded away.
Yet, here I am again
Trying to make sense
Of the void.
Loss,
There is so much to lose,
We are willing to toss away now.
Have I tossed away now–
The joy of now–
Because I am afraid of losing?
Letting go, letting go, letting go…
Keep saying that,
One hundred times,
Then more.
Wolfhound Mourns our Wolfhound
24 Sunday Oct 2021
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Death, Death Poems, dogs, Loneliness, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Souls, Spirit, wolfhound, Wolfhounds, Yearning
I watch my wolfhound mourn
the loss of our wolfhound.
Her sighs, like cries,
a wheezing must of being alone.
The certainty of death:
A large hole we dug
To lay his body.
Hole covered,
It’s now a patch of dirt
Among a browning grass.
Such loss does not get easier.
Did you think it would?
Day four,
And she still cries in her sleep.
I join, and cry for her,
for him, for me,
for constantly losing good things,
noble things,
Beings, we so wanted
To keep.
Knowing How To Fall
13 Friday Aug 2021
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Death, Death Poems, Dying, Gratitude, Infinite, Loss, Love, Love Poems, Mt Spokane, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Souls, Spirit, Yearning
“I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down –”
I will trace your body with my fingers,
I will kneel before you with cupped hands,
Because that’s what it is to love,
To memorize this moment we inhabit,
To see your chest rise and fall
In mutual breath and beating hearts.
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
All those who have passed, there,
beyond the smoke, is the mountain:
Minutes, seconds, days, and months
Turn to years, but always the mountain,
Who recognizes only eternity.
And here, we embrace in its shadow,
Speak words, like living things do.
Comfort, does it comfort you
to hear your name spoken from my lips,
To know, someone will fall down
When you’re gone?
*Italics are verses from, The Summer Day, by Mary Oliver
Out of Our Hands
24 Saturday Jul 2021
Posted in Poetry
The universe told me
Our hands are empty,
They do not contain miracles
Or, even wise words.
Moment by moment,
Only moments,
The brokenness of hearts,
A temporary rise to our feet,
As if to help,
but we didn’t–Did we?
Because our hands are empty.
A Hideous Brightness
13 Sunday Jun 2021
Posted in Poetry
Tags
Belief, Death, Death Poems, drought, Dying, God, Heat, Hope, Horse Poem, Horse Poems, Horse poetry, Horses, Life, Loss, Love, Miracles, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Prayer, Sacred, Sun, Survival, weeds
Drought year,
Everything is dying early.
We realize what is hearty,
And what is not.
Weeds, they multiply,
Even after we spray,
As if they know,
This is their time.
They sink taproots,
And suckle what is left
Of underground aquifers.
We’re breaking heat records in June;
The sweltering, unrelenting sun
Is just getting started.
How many trips to the barn,
Down this cackling road?
The day I saw the barn cat
Kill father Robin–
It was an ominous sign
For the foal.
And then I succumbed
To this hackling cough.
Death is a time for prayer,
Calling out
for whatever hope God can spare.
Cries sent, not into a dark night,
But a hideous brightness.
Bits of Poetry 