BECAUSE OF THE RAIN

We come to each other
exactly at the center,
the spine of ample fire, and suffer
to be revised.
Stay with me.

Weren't we promised
the sheer flame, bright change
so clean even our clothes wouldn't smell of smoke,
not one hair of our heads would be singed?
Yet, just now, didn't the tongues slip
loose and hot about my neck?
Stay close now.

I'VE THOUGHT

In the past I have thought that mourning is a span of time after someone’s leaving, a period of healing and coming to peace with things. I know now, upon your leaving, that mourning is not related to time. Rather, it is in everyday events or places that one mourns. It is in flashes of memory of moments shared or conversations had. It is in the remembrance of odd yet charming personality traits, precious moments where knowledge was passed or affection rendered with no cost. Mourning is when you replay moments that were long forgotten and yearn for a chance to add one more word. It is the smell of an old jacket or the vivid picture in your mind of their hands and face. It is the fondness of a place where you both once stood or a place where you last felt their skin. It is the thought of you on their knee or rubbing their back as you kiss their cheek. It is every corner that you turn that you mourn your loved one who is gone. You mourn them every time you whisper “I Love You” and “I’m Sorry” as you picture how you saw them last. It is the act of giving thanks to the Good Lord for your time with them while petitioning for strength to mend.

Time is not relevant except that mourning spans throughout it.

THE DEATH

I postpone death by living, by suffering, by error, by risking, by giving, by losing.
It haunts me but it will never grab me.
That's why:

"Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die."