How they walk, hand in hand,
forever intertwined,
grief and joy,
never knowing who will pop up.
The inexplicable joy that starts
at the crinkles of your eyes caused
by the curving of your lips
as they turn upwards in a smile.
It is the warm, tingly feeling in your chest
as your heart celebrates your friend’s good fortune
or the beauty that surrounds you.
The ecstasy shines out from your body
with the strength of the summer sun.
And you think this bliss will last forever,
only to have grief roar in
with the ferocity of a winter blizzard,
causing whiteout conditions
that make it hard to navigate
what once was a breezy, clear day.
The wind will chill your weary soul
as it grasps to find its footing.
The weight will come,
crashing down on your chest,
making it hard to breathe.
Your eyes will glisten with tears,
as the river spills down your cheeks.
Looking up from the valley floor,
you wonder once again,
“How will I ever get back to the top of the hill?”
And the amazing thing is this all
can happen within minutes of each other.
So, you learn to hold each hand with gentleness,
knowing that love has knit them together
as part of the bargain of living.
Category: Poetry
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Strange Bed Fellows
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The Seed
An Ode to My Parents
The seed was planted, watered, and tended with love.
With the warmth of the sun, it was allowed to grow.
The sower’s voice spoke gently, encouraging it to blossom
With petals full of love, stretching out to the world.
It watched the gardeners’ example of gentle compassion
As they walked along the flowerbeds,
Treating each flower, whether thriving or dying,
With dignity and grace.
For they knew that the flowers’ beauty must grow from within
If it was to brighten creation once it left the safety of the bed.
The sower released the flower to humanity once
All the wisdom had been bestowed upon it,
Allowing it to spread its seeds to all it touched. -
This Fragile Life
I thought the earth was solid,
That even the craziness of life had meaning
Until the day I sat next to your lifeless body,
My heart shattered, tears streaming down my face.No longer could I take a step without
The ground shaking under my feet,
Wondering if I would be able to navigate
this foreign landscape that made no sense.Time, as I knew it, no longer existed
As I watched people rush by like
They hadn’t felt the tectonic plates shift
Knowing that they could drop into the abyss at any moment.The fog washed over me as I tended to death’s chores.
The worst were the calls to say that you were dead.
No one wants to hear those sorrowful words
That were screaming in my soul.I wasn’t prepared to pick out funeral homes,
Or how many people I would have to speak with
To arrange my life without you.
The never-ending paperwork that said you no longer existed.Your death changed me,
Splitting my world into before and after.
Thirteen years ago, can seem like yesterday
When I’m hit by a trigger that reminds me
that you’re never coming back. -
Living With Your Memories
In my mind, I travel to a place where
My passport is no longer valid,
And will not provide me with admittance.
I look through the window that contains
Only memories of the place that
Once was my safe harbor called home.
Of the arms and hearts of my parents who loved me,
But are no longer alive.I see the home decorated for birthday parties,
My dad making sure his girls had pretty party dresses
Where even our dog was dressed up for the festivities.
The yard full of neighborhood kids and cousins,
A swing set where ghost stories were told,
A rabbit hutch that was transformed into a clubhouse,
and summer carnivals with games and the best homemade fudge.I see the joy of trips to Piseco Lake,
And the cabin that would be home for a week.
Canoe rides to the island in the middle of the lake,
And nights at the dump nearby,
With the hopes of spotting bears
From the shelter of our station wagon.The annual trip to Cayuga Lake with my mom and siblings,
and my maternal aunt with her two youngest children.
We stayed in cabin 8, the biggest cabin with two bedrooms,
Though the bathrooms and showers were down the road.The sadness of my father leaving Sunday night to return to work in Syracuse
Would soon be filled with days when other relatives would visit,
And we would be free range children,
swimming in the lake and fishing from the pier,
catching sunfish and throwing them back into the lake
for someone else’s hook to snare them.
Buying candy at the little shop down the road,
And exploring places that we weren’t supposed to go.The longing for my parents and the grounding that they provided
Is something that I’m still learning to grasp.
When I return to the city of my birth,
With a hole in my heart that cannot be fixed.
The house that held these memories
Means nothing without the souls
Who once dwelled there. -
Book Bed Companion
Where your body once filled our bed,
Leaving your imprint, your unique shape,
Is now filled with piles of books to be read.
Words are my new companion, filling up the
Emptiness that you have left behind.
You loved all kinds of writing,
Reading them and sharing your thoughts
In poems, songs and plays,
Adding your unique beauty to the world.
These books provide me escape,
Often to England, where we once traveled.
I read until my eyes are heavy with sleep.
The voice from the audiobook lulls me
As I drift off to the land of dreams.
Your warmth and breathing no longer there
To soothe me to sleep.
Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems 