Tag Archives: passion

Happy Birthday Justin

Today is my middle son’s birthday. He would have been 27 years old. Living with loss is a funny state of being – we fight it at every turn, always dimly aware that it is inescapable. We create habits to keep us from losing our keys, our place in a book, lists so that we don’t forget one of life’s latest ingredients, we play puzzles to keep from losing our memories and thus, our minds. All this effort to avoid the ultimate equalizer of death. Justin died of SIDS the week before he would have been 6 months old.

Like anyone, I did not want a tremendous loss to be part of my reality. Not me, I don’t belong in this club. A good mom, a great mom…she’s not the mother of a dead child. It’s odd how I let the words of other people sometimes reinforce this falsity. I have to remind myself, they just don’t get it. All of us, regardless of your beliefs, we are human and must investigate our surroundings, our relationships, our relationship to everything through our unique perceptions and abilities. We are not meant to be perfect. If we are lucky we maintain the ability to shift and learn through the lifetime process. If we are luckier still, we have love in our life that is not lost but transformed and weaved into our story. Is it always joyful? No. An easy road? No. Is it worth the risk? Yes.

In past years I’ve often marked anniversary dates with poems to record my feelings regarding the death of Justin. I’ve never wanted to proclaim myself any more knowledgeable than another person on how separation by death feels. I felt that poetry was vague enough to easily be molded to others’ perceptions so that they could decide if there was benefit in my words. I still believe that to be true. Today is different. Today I want to risk being more direct about my feelings regarding Justin. I want you to know about him and the importance he plays in my life and who I am…and who I am becoming. Yes, he is sometimes seen as that tear you want to hide from – sometimes that silly smile as I sing along with an old song – he is part of me…every day. I want you to know so that you can understand why I am celebrating today. Like my other sons and all the important people in my life, Justin is worth celebration.

Please do me a favor as I honor his memory and place in my life and take time today to celebrate those that matter to you. Celebrate them if they are standing next to you, across the country, across the world, in a different belief system, a confusing time in their life, a confusing time in your life, in a difference of opinion, or simply in your memory. Allow me today to be bold enough to proclaim the importance of loving, deeply, with your entire self, even at the risk of losing it all.

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Weekend Call

unknowns can be frightening

even with training

what will this alarm be

odd to train for the hope

that nobody will call

but they generally call

turns out I am best at

silence

seems the best remedy

when nothing can be fixed

slowing my breath

others catch theirs

for a moment

that will no longer be liquid

forever frozen

memory


Firecracker

birds

eight, nine, ten

landing on branches

bending from slight weight

not losing a note of their song

how explosive, daylight freedom

no solid ground required for flight

bang

bang

bang


For Calliope

winter yawns weary breathe

upon my creasing brow

I stand up and look about

for unused fields to plow

 

turn under words laid in haste

seek wisdom from the wind

track my eyes all around

to see what might descend

 

herein lies the marker stone

of what I think I’ve done

truth be known, outside of me

an unearthly sprite does run

 

she visits as I’m sleeping

and when I’m hard at work

never pausing long enough

for my values to assert

 

still I seek her council

looking towards my harvest

will it be found bountiful

or leave me empty hearted


Incidental Desert

where are the pieces found

a collage at the day’s end

hidden in the tissue leaves

of a tree-lined background

tightly wrapped in cloaks

every tone-deaf melody

hoping to capture & hold 

external spins of vertigo silence

before the diamond falls

from the moon

trail maps

weather wearied souls

lost


Deadbeat Dragon

she keeps licking
the underbelly of
the cerulean dragon
to see if he
will breathe fire
for her

so far
the friction of
two small sticks
is the only reward

Do you have to make a beast angry?


Awaken

elusive dreams float
between id and ego
creating a strange parade
audience or participant
desire or self-control
passion or planning
a combination
truth naked
like the emperor
eyes are shut