Reflecting on Loss

My fiance's grandmother died a week ago, today. So, now that the arrangements and formality of the funeral are over with, I was sitting here reflecting on death and loss and getting on with my own mourning of losing such a sweet and wonderful lady.

We had promised Sandy at Christmas that we would finally get married this winter, as soon as our tax returns were in. I'm very sad that she was unable to hold on and see us "legally" man and wife. We've lived together for 7 years, and although Sandy welcomed me into her family and accepted me and my children as if we were her own, she was very worried about the fact that we weren't "married" in God's eyes. And even though I never worried about "living in sin", I am sorry that we didn't get married a little sooner.

I went looking about in my poetry file, knowing that somewhere, I would have something appropriate to reflect how I was feeling. It didn't take long, and while the following poem can apply to many situations, today, it applies to our loss of Zaddie "Sandy" Pilcher, a truly beautiful person, inside and out.

Journey of a Teardrop

A misting rain, gently falling
A minor irritation
Subtle and confusing, not sure
When it started
Gradually becomes a slow
Moving brook
Widening as it travels, picking
Up the pace
Gathering small debris, and growing
To a stream
Quickly gaining speed while racing
For the sea
Captured by a lake, then rushing
To escape
Forcing a way out, transformed
Into a river
Rumbling through its bed, like
A nightmare
On a collision course with huge rocks
Up ahead
Jumping from a waterfall, and crashing
Far below
A predestined journey for the tears
Of a broken heart

Blood Red Moon

As a poet, I sometimes have trouble getting the words from my brain to paper. But sometimes, as with the following poem, the words just seem to explode and flow on their own. There is usually a trigger when that happens.

Blood Red Moon is such a poem. One night, after a particularly grim day for news, I went out to the store. On my way, I happened to notice that there was a full moon in the sky and that it was a strange, orange color. Words began to float around in my head and I knew I needed to get back home. After hurrying to finish my shopping I headed for the house, constantly distracted by the pictures and words in my head. Once home, I went straight to the computer and within 15 minutes or so, Blood Red Moon was on my screen fully formed. I had to do very little editing before I was satisfied. After reading through it several times, I realized that sometimes the sole purpose of a poem is to make us stop and think.

BLOOD RED MOON

I gaze upon a blood red moon hanging low, there in the sky
It brings to mind a distant past when superstition ran so high
A history of intolerance, where being different was a sin
Mistakes repeated more than once, and still today, herein.

Have we changed so little then, that population, as a whole
Will reject the changing times and mutilate an unlike soul?

The blood red moon seems to pulse, giving off an eerie light
Judging our society and its stance on wrong from right
Questioning our ability to stand back and clearly see
That our hate steals our vision and our grand nobility.

And have our hearts, as a nation, become so immune
That we can watch people die, with no feeling to commune?

Hidden by a floating cloud, the blood red moon peeks around
Watching me, as I watch it, not daring now to make a sound
A crushing thought creeps through my mind, tries to smother me
As I slowly realize that our delusion is that virtue, called civility.

Do we, as a people, still believe that mass suppression
Will not hurt our souls and fill us with depression?

Coming out of hiding now, the blood red moon shines brightly
As I wrap my arms around myself and hold on so very tightly
Shaken to the core by this insight, a misty red revelation
I see now that we are a torn and broken nation.

Can we ever come together, despite our mixed belief
And provide our fellow man with succor and relief?

I turn from the blood red moon, my thoughts I cannot bear
When I hear the wind whisper softly 'I am always there'.
I turn back in surprise and see the sun on the horizon
Chasing back the blood red moon, and with it there is reason.

So will we be a brotherhood, as we’ve been before
To show the world the radiance, of a brighter shore?

I lift my face to the light and let its warmth dry my tears
As I let my spirit soar and release its darkest fears
Knowing that as long as we can hold on to our hope
We will always find the courage and the faith to cope.


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