The birds flew south
Walking in the forest
I heard silence
With echoes of sadness
After you left
The books remained unread
Arranged on top of each other
In alphabets of absence
Some words are missing
In discordant conversations
The strings were adjusted
I was able to sleep
After a very long wait.
A month ago.
Asymmetry has its own beauty
Nothing revealed, nothing concealed
Only loss of symmetry
Like death with its own mystery
Brings silence and tears.
Time’s passing so quickly
You have not returned from your walk
You should have been getting ready
To go to ride the ferry
Eating breakfast, dressing up
But morning unfurls like a yarn with a cat
The telephone is garbled confusion
Converging into cries and disbelief
Of what has happened.
Tears take time to dry
Smile takes time to sustain
Flowers, sea, flamingoes, stories can not
Take the place of loss, we
Brave each morning, learning
New steps, each night may bring
New dreams, to remember and celebrate
Your life that will not return
Understanding and surrender take time
Love bears and endures all things
The only truth I have to know.
The grape leaves frame the red sun
We are eager in taking photos of the sunset
But we are sad.
note: Mrs. Abstract showed me this painting, The Wounded Angel by Hugo Simberg. I was reflecting on that sad Friday last week.
The Wounded Angel
painting by Hugo Simberg
After the bright stars
happy stories defining the hours
a morning of peace and loss
a sadness even the angels will weep.
note: follow a friend’s blog: loss
Birds do not cry.
Though sometimes they look helpless.
Like when they are sunning on the beach
And high tide is coming
Why should sadness be inevitable?
You can look out to the sea
Imagine the sailboats racing
Or simply sailing leisurely.
Have patience with the past
In the midst of absurdities
There is time to differentiate
Optimism from hope.
Do not cry.
Why does beauty sometimes make us
feel sad and unselfishness
looks so bewildering?
We live in interpretive world
walking a path of expectations
strewn with attainments and praises.
Our efforts carry promises
measured movement forward
gentle steps that will not frighten a cat.
Share your laughter with the world
audaciously unfold your mirth
cathartic and contagious.
by Christina Rossetti
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann’d:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
The absence you touch in my mind
like the green smell of grass mowed.
But what is it that comes
when the rain falls at night
I remember music of mandolin
with missing strings?
I try to create a space
when the river tide rises
I climb up to the upper room
and from the window
I watch the wind
whips fear away from the trees
as if comforting them.
Last night I walked along the river
the winter cold was not crisp as it should be.
They were gone
the dining tables with blue glasses
and pink chairs.
You smiled admiring the colors