10 Monday Sep 2018
Posted in Uncategorized
Tags
Afterlife, Death, Death Poems, Eternity, Hope, Infinite, Loneliness, Loss, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Souls, Yearning
Sometimes, missing feels like stone,
a fear that what seems over,
really is over. To be alone,
is no small thing, even though,
it seems, we always are.
Between us, an invisible thread
throws itself out, and stretches—
have you seen a silk thread
blowing itself out with the wind,
reaching, reaching—how far it reaches,
attached to nothing, but air.
09 Sunday Sep 2018
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25 Saturday Aug 2018
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Tags
Afterlife, Conversations With Maggie, Death, Life, life after death, Loss, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Togetherness
Remember the years we couldn’t see
the mountains, obscured with smoke?
That’s what it will feel like,
when I’m no longer here, she said.
The mountains were still there, I said.
17 Tuesday Apr 2018
Posted in Uncategorized
I crossed
That field, weeks before the first pass of the blade,
Through grass and briars, fog–the night itself
to my thighs, my skirt pulled up that high.
(Claudia Emerson, excerpt from Aftermath)
Today, I stood in the south pasture and looked back at the house,
as if it was another life I was seeing from the outside:
the gables, the stone facade, the windows, the aspen.
The palomino came to me there, and seemed of two worlds.
She crossed over the basalt outcroppings,
her hooves crushing the baby grass and buttercups,
like a bold spirit that moved between life and death
and made me wonder, for a moment, which I inhabited,
or what was real, the house, the horse, the wind, my body–
the words I searched for, to say how much I miss you.
17 Thursday Dec 2015
Posted in Uncategorized
Sit deep, deep in the saddle,
Your ankle, hip, and shoulder
A line, that dissects some star
And continues past,
“Where does space end,”
The question your teacher asked
In the fifth grade.
Which is to say, it never ends,
And I can’t help thinking,
I don’t either,
Nor does this horse,
Engulfed in her own heat,
Evaporating into the cold air
Of another December.
What is it about two souls
That makes the one feel alive,
Connected, two dots, through which
A line extends forever,
Pierces a fabric, so thin,
We were together all along,
Though we didn’t know.
11 Thursday Dec 2014
Posted in Uncategorized
Tags
Afterlife, Creator, Dad, Death, Death Poems, End of Life, Faith, Father, God, Heaven, Hope, Losing Parents, Love, Oxygen, Parents, Poem, Poems, Poetry, pulmonary fibrosis
You’re not gone yet,
Or, are you,
Floating somewhere,
Possibly beside me here
as I write this poem, play this song.
Do you hear the music I hear—
Know my thoughts—
Feel what it is to be emptied?
The lungs close in on themselves
And all around us is less than we need—
Want—wish for—desperately fight to breathe.
Tell me there’s an afterlife,
A place where you’ll wait,
All things separated, rejoined,
The things we can feel,
And the things we believe are here,
Even when we cannot see.
