memory

Heard Dinah Washington today and wept alone under the stark lights in a crowded Loblaws. An old memory haunts.

home sweet home

scary and wonderful.
sadness and laughter.
stories about it all.
how I wish I could hear.

bon voyage

Travel safely and see with your new eyes just how wonderful the world is. Whether our paths cross again or not, you are always in my thoughts and in my heart. Taste the air. Smell the food. And remember them for later. One day you will tell me about it all, and you know I’ll want the details. Hear new sounds, the accents, the words, the music. Love again. Feel again. Be again. Enjoy yourself. Bella.

sadness and light

a proper sadness. respecting the ending.
the contrast of a burden lifted with the
sorrow of parting ways. not meant to be.
knowing enough to stand still when lost.
knowing that time is an ally even while
it is an enemy. a delicate balance. not
rushing even while she slips farther away.
keeping dignity with an open heart. loving
to the end.

I miss you

life with a friend. mentor. lover. gentle critic. seeing all my faults. talking sweetly about the ones that matter. ignoring the rest. exaggerating the good in me. showing me another way. comforting. just being there. exposing your heart. being vulnerable. watching over me. tolerating my criticisms. understanding my intent. allowing me to comfort you. dreaming big dreams together. cherishing small miracles. seeing beauty in the smallest moments. walking and smiling while mentally holding hands. knowing that you are so loved. never wanting. always feeling full. breathing together. knowing so much about the other. knowing so much about love. being blind. your beauty is because of my eyes. but it’s also real beauty. physical and your soul shines. I have known you so long. before this life. I am sure of it. always believing in me. caring even when no one else is looking. caring even now when I don’t deserve it.

sensual

alone. the day is dark. so lonely
striking contrast to years gone by
living one day at a time, not feeling
nothing but numbness. can you now feel?

your day is here, but I am missing
we would have tasted heaven and
drunk from God’s cup – wine sweet
like dripping honey. can you taste yet?

diamonds. your stone, so exquisite
facets of our lives together. gone
now without a trace except for the
broken echoes and shards. can you hear?

wild roses on the garden wall. thorny
but so beautiful and the smell of dessert
petals so delicate like the finest silk
attar on the wind. can you still smell?

your eyes blurred. so wet with the rain
hiding the tears that threaten to come
like a torrent. what is left of this life?
clouds hiding the sun. can you still see?

helen

carer. discipliner. tired woman
raising eight children. birthing ten
jennifer dead. a boy also. pain
and tears at carrying a corpse

liver of dreams. provider. lover
of us all. giving when there was
nothing left to give. wiping our
tears. making us weep salt

teller of tales. stealer of stories
funny mother. your losses make us
indignant and angry when we
should be be understanding

you are us in a few years – with
luck and hard work. to be so loved
is profound, rare. to be so admired
is what we strive for. mother.

running

silence. the world sleeps while I toss and turn.
weird dreams awaken a longing inside me
that I haven’t felt for a very long time.

emptiness. the comfort of warmth is hiding.
I am left to guess, ponder and consider
whether I understand your real truth.

sadness. your promises have not been kept.
running without words! you are supposed
to be my support. pillar. like I am yours.

colours

red as love sleeping peacefully in your arms
the maroon tones, gently
washing the crimson tides of passion, calm
warm light, yellow and soft

how would you like to be remembered?

I was listening to CBC radio the other morning and I heard an inspiring piece about an art exhibition by ex-convicts from a halfway house in Toronto. The art was inspired by a text message to the halfway house inhabitants that asked “How would you like to be remembered when you die?” The art was the response and from the conversations it was interesting to remember once again that we are only divided by the circumstance of our lives. As one of the artists said “there are a lot of people out there that often do bad things – but they just don’t get caught. Yet these same people have no problem moralizing about the evils of doing bad things.”