i danced with laughter last night he is good to me i need to spend more time with him past came calling but i didn't accept the charges he's too moody and sentimental love and i had afternoon tea in a thunderstorm he is essential future rang the bell i peered through the peep hole he smiled at me dream and i have an understanding he is only allowed to visit when he's not a nightmare
I've been absent from NaPoWriMo for a few days. I think the sadness of the times has taken a toll. There are so many families dealing with loss and are unable to comfort their loved ones in their final hours. It breaks my heart. When my heart breaks, poetry heals. This poem is for all the souls no longer dreaming and all their loved ones lost in grief. “This place is a dream. Only a sleeper considers it real. Then death comes like dawn, and you wake up laughing at what you thought was your grief.” ~ Rumi
i am not the ashes in this box i am the lilacs blooming in spring the new born fawn in the meadow i am the wildflowers of summer the eagle soaring above i am the leaves falling in autumn the chill in the wind of change i am the fire's heat on a cold winter's night the raven outside your window i am not the ashes in this box i am the salt of your tears the space between each breath i am not the ashes in this box i am no longer dreaming i'll be here when you wake
I saw you on the mountain waving your arms at me,
not asking to be saved, rather rejoicing in being free.
You turned and gestured for me to follow, over the ridge and beyond.
I hesitated and didn’t take the step and suddenly you’re gone.
Now when I look upon that mountain, where you waved and drew my eye,
I realize you weren’t calling me home, you just came to say goodbye.
But someday I’ll take that journey, climbing high upon the ridge,
and join you on the mountain to say farewell to a life well lived.
Post Script: This poem in honor of my Bubba Todd and hiking buddy. Meet ya on the mountain brother!