April 20, 2011
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.
April 12, 2011
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?
April 7, 2011
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.
March 23, 2011
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.
March 9, 2011
red as love sleeping peacefully in your arms
the maroon tones, gently
washing the crimson tides of passion, calm
warm light, yellow and soft
March 5, 2011
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.”
February 20, 2011
you think I’ve forgotten you. your face
is imprinted in my mind. a thousand years
we have known each other. friends, lovers
travelling through time without knowing
the story’s end.
comfort in familiarity. talking in silence,
knowing before the other spoke, these were
our greatest moments. we are like water –
impermanent shape. we are never starting,
you cannot take me away and I cannot
leave you. the imprints are deep. I owe much
of myself to us – to a love that burnt so
brightly that it scarred my soul. your love
will never leave me.
I never want it to. I want to be able to rub my
fingers across the old marks – feel their shape,
respect the fire that branded. I am unsure,
shaky about why. you think I don’t remember
yet I always see you.