When someone you love has gone.
Since I don't have you,
I conjure up an image that
is both real and ideal.
What I do recall is etched
in sharp relief, but deeply,
in dark caverns of my mind.
The heart is a better well of
reminiscence as it draws up
an intangible but true past.
A newfound, tranquil corner in
me reassures that love, though
gone missing, is never lost.
Lovely... Beautiful poem.
I have some thoughts about life and death, new thoughts for me, and so different from my old JW thoughts...
and which are hard to fit with your beautiful expression that "love, though gone missing, is never lost."
I like your "newfound, tranquil corner"... I am still looking for that...
Poignant -- the "intangible" is the mystery here -- true love is beyond grasp. Hearts need time for letting go/accepting. Beautiful to abandon drowning to calm breathing (your words of 'tranquil corner' are perfect!) and hope of filling vacancy in heart for love once again.
Thanks, again, for sharing your gift, Coco. Can't wait for you to publish in a book!
Thank you, Muddy Waters and LV101, for your noting of certain parallels between what the poem expresses and what we experience in real life. You both understand how I feel about input, and yours is very helpful to me, on all levels.
Love to you and yours.
Backatcha, Coco! :D
I've been feeling a little blue, and having lost my momma a few years back was such a life-changing experience for me, coupled with my present poor health.
I was with her when she died, and so thankful that I was there, as difficult as it was. But it's made me question so many things....
All the best to you and yours, too!
Yes, Muddy Waters, losing a parent -- or both! -- is difficult. My sister was with Mom when she died. I was with Dad at his passing. I wish they were here again. So much to catch up on, so many questions to ask.
Those questions, sadly, will remain unanswered.
Till the next time, Dear.
CC, that is a very powerfully poem and timely for me as I just learned this morning that one of my dear aunts died last night.
Thank you for sharing it.
Question: Is that a typo in the first line of the third stanza? Did you mean “The heart is a bitter well ...”?
CoCo- I love the final line to your poem- I am currently transforming into that place in my life still ( albeit at times through tears ) as my mom passed away last December and my dad died a few months ago in July. They were married almost 70 years . Music , listening to it and playing it , my wife, my adult son, and close friends and some non-JW family all help to ease that pain of loss. The ' newfound, tranquil corner ' is what I eagerly anticipate as I throw myself back into living and life, caring, and loving. As the Beatles once said, " And in the end , the love you take , is equal to the love you make."
You are creating and making love abound by your kind poem here today. Much appreciated my friend. Take care, Peace out, Mr. Flipper
Beautiful. Thank you.
Good morning, jp1692, Mr. Flipper, and scratchme1010:
When I read your beautiful comments last night while on a critter-care job, I wanted to respond immediately (but my Apple Powerbook doesn't allow responses). Now, on my DELL, back at home, I can reply.
jp1692: I'm sorry about your aunt's death, and to have learned of it just last night. Wishing you and your family peace at a difficult time.
I really like that thought of a "bitter well," where "better" could very well have been construed as a typo. That would surely have put a different slant on the poem's meaning; however, I was drawing a symbolic contrast between the darkness of the mind's perspective of events recalled and the benign vagaries of the heart's recollections -- memories seen through rose-colored glasses. So, the mind and heart are both wells, of a sort, from which to draw memories. I see the heart as a "better well," given the reasons stated above. Just this one poet's viewpoint. Your input is much appreciated!
Mr. Flipper: Yes, we were sorry to hear of both your parent's passing. Whatever the relationship between you and your parents, you will miss them when they are gone, so wrote Maya Angelou. It was a blessing that your mother's position as a Witness did not preclude having a great relationship with you. Your words mean a lot to me. THANKS!
scratchme1010: Thank you, and you're welcome!