Saturday, August 2, 2014

August 3, 2014 The Sunday Whirl/ Early Morning/Poetry Jam

Early Morning
No sound on the mesa
The only sound I hear
My own inner-voice speaking
I listen sounds jumbled
Unsure what it is trying to say

Like the sounds of artillery
In the middle of war
When It is over
And the loud sounds cease
Ears ringing in between
The sounds of the heart
Beating wildly

I developed an appetite
For the sights and sounds
Of the hospital
The voices in hushed whispers
The chime of the elevators
Indicating the floor
The machines monitoring vital signs
The days made weary
With the tireless efforts of the nurses
Attending every need of the patients
The doctors coming and going
Discussing the latest tests results
A form of hope

In the first days after your leaving
Everything was clear
A coin struck at the mint
Now in memory
Those last days are jumbled
I remember my heart clutching
Reaching for you
Trying to hold on

I could not disclose to you
Exactly what happened each day
Nor exactly at what point I realized
You would not be coming home
Your illness had won
And now we were in a time of waiting

The sun bright in the window each day
Creating a play of light and shadow
Reminding me there was another world
Beyond that clean quiet
Sterile room we occupied
Life went on as usual
Right now in that room
It was only you and I that were not
Going on as usual

It was an ordinary happening
It happens everyday
Part of life you see
It will happen to you and to me
Our day will come
It will all be over
The bliss of death
As promised
Though we know it is so
To a Mother it is extraordinary
Hard to let her Son go

August 2, 2014

Note:  The days pass, sometime with difficulty and sorrow, but pass they must, life goes on, spinning like a merry-go-round in a children’s playground.  There is nothing left to do but to hold on.  Live life in gratitude for the time you were here, the time you were mine, for the love we shared.  I gather the words, seek meaning, check in with my heart which feels battered and bruised, it is hard for me to go on without the one who was my Son.  When he died something inside me died too.  It is the penalty of loving, but the heart loves, what it loves.  Perhaps, it is the definition of being human.






13 comments:

  1. Letting any loved one go is hard. A life once shared is then a life shattered and you experience a poverty like no other.

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  2. Sorrow and loss are the flip side of love I suppose..so very hard..i like the ceasefire first thing in the morning..giving you time to process those moments which should be recorded...they were and are important..it's strange..hospital is not comforting or a comfort but there is something about the steady beats and order..with love on this Sunday xo

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  3. Beautifully done in an honouring of great loss.

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  4. Annell, this poem chronicles part of your difficult journey, which I know still continues. The hope, and the loss of hope, and the waiting for the inevitable, and the heart-breaking time afterwards. Yes, everyone's time will come; but you have chronicled well how living on beyond one's son is so very hard!

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  5. Great sorrow comes as a result of great love. As I read this, my heart wept for your loss. You are in my prayers.

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  6. love is hard...as is life...and we never know how long we have...and with who...i hear you on getting used to the sounds in the hospital...they represented hope of one thing...and ...i hope to never face losing one of my sons...

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  7. A wise man once told me that there are only two ways to avoid losing your loved ones: don't love, or go first. Choosing love is the courageous choice, since it means we also choose grief. Perhaps, though, there is a place where it all fits together like a jigsaw puzzle and it is our own small vantage point that keeps us from understanding the beauty of the whole.

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  8. A heart doesn't really break, but a soul may come free of its moorings. And there we are, set adrift without a paddle, having to trust the ebb and flow of time and tides to bring us back to shore again. And again Annell, this is beautifully written,

    Elizabeth

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  9. Mothers love lives for ever..that's what I see in your poem Annell..as love has no form..it is there connected with you and your son..

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  10. This is very wrenching poem. Beautiful recording of a difficult process that even if it was some time ago still goes on. A mother's love is for ever. It is amazing sometimes in the midst of something like that when you realize ordinary life just goes on around us. Hugs.

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  11. Life goes on, yet when we lose someone, we feel the sun won't shine. It hard to believe that life just keeps moving. Yet we remain.

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  12. Annell, a sorrowful write on losing your son. Yes, life goes on... Hugs to you, my friend.

    Love,
    Pamela ox

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  13. Heartrending, my friend, and so beautifully written.

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