The Trees
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life is to death as tears are to rain
Bright is the light that shines on me
as I dwell finally
in deathbed reverie
the doctor he talks
and talks and he talks
my wife she weeps
and weeps and she weeps
and time it creeps
and creeps and it creeps
what is this light that shines above
lights pallid face of death
to my love
the darkness it resists
and resists and it resists
in brilliance it glows
and glows and it glows
in radius it grows
and grows and it grows
this light that calls me as my light fades
this light that draws me
to the night of shades
with death it walks
and walks and it walks
my feeble hand I raise and wave
I waver and it waves
faces watch uncertain so grave
grave and so grave
I see my hand stir dust in the air
second last thing I will see anywhere
the dust it wafts
and wafts and it wafts
my brow is mopped
and mopped and is mopped
my hand drops
I drop and it drops
as dust I settle back onto deaths bed
into the pillow sinks my head
life’s weight I shed
I shed and I shed
looking down into the room
I am surprised it is lit
by only gloom
the husk has collapsed
collapsed collapsed
hollowed of life
of life and of life
beside my wife
my wife my beloved wife
the dust dispersed draws my spirit in
and back to dust
I go again
the gift I leave is small but complete
I was loved and I loved
I am replete
Today’s dverse prompt is from Laura, to write words of departure based on your choice from a set of quotes. I chose the quote from a favourite and most remarkable movie – “All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.” Roy Batty, Blade Runner.
33 kinds of rain
The misting rain as light as being
The pitter patter rain of anticipation
The sun shower rain of joyfulness
The dawn lit rain of new awakenings
The driving rain of persistent harassment
The piercing rain of pain and hurt
The bleak rain of uncertainty
The saturating rain of grief
The pounding rain of anger
The cold rain of fear and loathing
The persistent rain of melancholy
The drought breaking rain of celebration
The tropical rain of surprise and relief
The tin roof rain of night time snuggles
The slanting rain of getting under your skin
The fat wet rain of things to come
The dull rain of misery
The easing rain of hope for a day
The sheeting rain of washing your sins away
The aerosol rain that never settles
The eddying rain of indefinite endings
The ominous rain of growing darkness
The thunder laden rain of shock and awe
The storm driven rain of nature’s authority
The drenching rain of no escape
The floating rain of disproportionate outcomes
The harrowing rain of oppression and spite
The lightning flash rain of vision burned
The unexpected rain of scrambling for shelter
The flooding rain of tears
The icy rain of an unknown future
The sleety rain of chilled to the bone
The sunlit rain of clarity of purpose
The dancing rain of swirling possibilities
The evening rain of contemplation
The elemental rain of fundamental outcomes
The cloaking rain of secrecy
The wispy rain of dissipation
The hard rain of death
The transparent rain of release
The soft rain of peace
Ashes
“We brought her ashes here.”
Someone could have said this
That someone could not have been me
Because I wasn’t there
Not in mind, not in spirit, not in body
I was absent on every level
In fact, I think I went to school
Did I really go to school?
For want of something better to do
That must have been weird for the teachers
Their dead colleague’s son returns to school
Instead of attending their dead colleague’s funeral
I wonder if it hurt? (Me? Them?)
I didn’t wonder at the time
I just didn’t want to go
Didn’t want to know
I saw the dead when death was done
No need to attend a funeral rerun
Clear and simple
That was the way I saw it
“We brought her ashes here because …..”
I can tell you I have no idea why
I wasn’t there I tell you
I wasn’t involved
Not in the slightest
Not for the sightfest
I guess it was because standards were everything
I guess it was convenience if anything
“We took her ashes elsewhere”
I mean
It would have made more sense don’t you think?
Well, with hindsight anyway
I wonder now where that elsewhere might have been?
I imagine there was a place somewhere distant to the mass ash repository
Somewhere that had more meaning?
To her
To Dad
To us
To me?
I wonder where that place might have been?
It bothers me that I have no idea about this
Instead of being encapsulated
Did she think about where her ashes might be cast?
She had time
So much time for dying
Was there time for thinking about this as well?
Thinking about the special places
The places that meant something
The places where her ashen cloud
Could manifest as transient shroud
One last act of giving
One finale to living
“Here lie her ashes”
I still don’t know where
I still don’t want to know
I haven’t been there
Don’t want to be shown
Wherever there is
And I won’t go
Because there is a neutral and meaningless place
At least, I don’t know what it means
Elsewhere might have been easier
Somewhere I could understand
Where she could still lend a hand
A place for her to show
Somewhere I might want to go
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