Crumpled
The Ritual of Leaving.
The usual goodbye routine,
I pack, guilt riven
her brave face as the carer serves her breakfast.
An hour later, the food un-eaten on the tray.
Seeing her there, helpless,
no longer able to fulfil our special ritual,
she at the window
waving till out of sight…
only enhances the pain.
Leaning over to kiss pure white hair
on the head of a valiant soul
who has weathered ninety one winters.
The pathos
is of the eviscerating kind.
That precious frame, slight now.
Feeling her warm scalp under my lips
as I hold her hand…
Times stands still.
So what is life and death?
What is hello and goodbye?
Only a greeting or farewell
from one place to another.
We understand that
and so we treasure it
but still we struggle…
There is no place that love does not inhabit
there is no state that comfort cannot be found.
Even in the exchanges of the most futile kind,
love is there and will fill the gaps.
When the heart is over-burdened and heavy
with unspoken emotion,
In all things, and in the eyes
love will find a way.
Nevertheless, I drive away
Crumpled.
I am gobsmacked Trevor..and deeply humbled.
Ha xxx
Just wonderful to read your words again, you give so much in this. To those of us that know you, this piece has a special significance. We have both written of these times, never better than this. Please take care of yourself Alison Stormwolf, such as you are rare.
Mike XxX
Well, that’s got me greetin’ 😉 Seriously Mike, I am very moved by the comments.
It’s been a while since I felt the urge to write and I am sure we all suffer from a certain trepidation about how a poem may be received.
I am on the horns of a dilemna, as it takes so much out of me driving up etc but I am so aware that every moment is precious.
Thank you so much and sending light and love your way. (my phone is away to be repaired at present) 🙁
Alison xxx
A heartfelt and poignant poem, Alison, that shows that love trascends all even in adversity.
Best wishes, Luigi x
Thanks so much Luigi. I sometimes think that love becomes condensed in times such as these. A true ‘concentrated tincture’ if you like. No room for anything else.
Alison xx
Storm, I saw this was an audio poem and wanted to hear what yours sounded like (just having posted one myself) Yours seems much clearer, what programme do you use ?
I found your poem to be very moving indeed and very well narrated. I know it’s no consolation – But my wife and I have both been there, so do understand the words.
gerry x
I am so sorry Gerry. I replied to you and for some reason the whole thing seems to have gone awol ;-( It was a long reply too. Anyway, I was saying that I use Audacity but always hope nothing goes wrong as have not got a clue what to do to sort it. I usually re-record my poems several times if I feel the mike is too far away, too loud or muffled. It’s trial and error I find. Some sound so much better than others in clarity. I am so glad you are having a bash. Since I… Read more »
Like all great poetry, Alison, it makes us intimate with the unfamiliar. I know it’s not written to impress, and so I won’t attempt to further critique it. The magic is in the way it makes us touch our own raw nerves.
Take care, ma dear…
Jim xx
Hi Jim, I am only glad it was able to evoke emotion and as you say, not written to impress. More an unburdening of my pent up grief and guilt that I cannot do more. 🙁 First thing this morning on waking, I was still altering it here and there, as sometimes it’s only when a poem goes ‘live’ for some reason that things stand out for me. I have been very uplifted and heart-warmed at the support and lovely comments I have received. It truly is a unique community here, one to be cherished through everything. take care yersel… Read more »