Tag Archives: death

If Only For A Moment May I Touch The Wild Twist


I stand alone upon the sentence of my grave
It keeps no form of weeping
No telepathic takings have their measure
No hush-hurries have their place
No one thing or soul is safe
If in reason-seeking came

Embers to be faced
From a fire which could not be traced
Stamped out
Pressed in around its edges
Told its name
Assigned its space
Dare we call Earth’s Mother

Here upon the wild froth
And crashing of its waves
There lies a subtlety
A saved and wretched madness
A lingered still breathing
Unlabored, though
If not in vain

Hopes collect in mass and come unkempt
Together, here remain
Tempt and torn
Undressed in haste
Of that which guiltless keeps the blame

Hard, unforgiving hands beat down
Of time
And laws of reason;
And its often wake
Collapse upon the cleaved-leaning martyrdom kind

Not a one
Shall find complaint

Be stilled, unsorrowed, soothed

Like footprints
Be them far removed
Scattered in and off the path
Variations of a purpose
Deviated from degree

Still, the skilled wisdoms of the ancients unfortold
The blind–but not the sightless-heart would seek

Be it bound
To thee, in chains
To endless fuel
Of longing
For knowledge
And for innocence
Dichotomous belonging

Matrimony juxtaposed
Mortality in duty
Bind the seagull, searching seeking
To her own refusal shore
Emptied of her wanton sight
Unthieved unclaimed
Uncoward braved
Forevermore, Foreverstays
The treasure
And its troves untold
Or if at all, then too untake

She came–not once did hesitate–but crash arrived
In versions; sighs
The truth a disappointment
Perpetual, in nature

She was Compassion
Without permission
Sympathetic of all sakes
But came, she nonethelessing did
To have her bite
Her bitten dust
To taste
Its dew
The morning midnights
A legacy, abate

Familiar should be as the gate
The worms shall have their meal

This of course, is what is meant

By patience, terms of virtue

Cyclical in terms of sense
In feel, it be serene
Portion filled divinity
The quiet keeping bliss

Simplicity reducing us
Duality, to this


Grief, Pain, and Loss: the Beauty Beyond Their Infinities


If you could have witnessed what it was like to be around my Grammy and me, you’d intuitively understand the special bond the two of us shared. Everyone in my life — and hers — knew and adored our relationship, maybe even better than they ever knew or adored us. Our own individual identities were somehow intrinsically tied to our connection; it truly was that unspeakably deep. From my first dirty diaper to my first real heartbreak, this woman and I were connected in ways that transcended human comprehension. We were each other.

You can imagine the awkward twinge of a somehow envious-yet-awestruck pain this must have caused my mother. Still; even my very own mother — even from the very beginning — understood the beautiful magnitude of such an enormous and divine love. To this day, the gratitude she feels to have been such a crucial part of that bond holds precedence over the strange and unexpected jealousy any mother might feel. My mother has more of my Grammy in her than she knows.

Because of all that, however, I received quite an overwhelming response from almost every person at my Grammy’s memorial service. For some reason, each person in attendance felt it was their own personal duty somehow to give me permission to cry.

I couldn’t cry. The entire service, I just sat there… Numb. Frozen in space and time; suspended from reality like a puppet on a string, not refusing the grief, but somehow unable to quantify it through the customary tears that every single person seemed to expect me to shed. Tears felt like a disservice to my pain. Like an insult. Tears would have suggested that the loss was measurable somehow, and it simply wasn’t. I couldn’t cry; not because I was refusing to face the sorrow, but because the sorrow was simply too gigantic to portray by crying tears of a loss that becomes accepted and embraced when we mourn. There was no way to mourn this loss… Because it was so huge, so indescribable, that it was a PART of me. The only way I can explain it is to suggest imagining how you would feel attending your own funeral in person. It was awkward and surreal and it felt like nobody truly understood the depth of the pain. If they had, they would have known without question why my heart was too broken to weep.

And after all these years, all these pivotal moments in my life where I’ve had to re-live the reality of her no longer being here with me, I have cried only once or twice about the fact that she is gone. Fifteen years later, I am still too raw and too lost for words to minimize the pain with tears that can’t reach the infinity of sorrow by her absence in my world.

Maybe the things that matter the most to us have their own journeys to take through the un-navigatable corners of our hearts and souls. For me, it seems, that much I know is true.

This an excerpt from a previous post, “All That We See or Seem…”
The vibration resounded for me today, so I shared that vibe. Maybe some part of my own grieving and cherishing process will encourage others who feel the same strain of hiking such painful, mountainous terrain. Be blessed.

Somebody Just Died

Somebody Just Died

In fact, a lot of people just died.

It happens every single time the clock ticks another second away.

Click, death. Click, death.

The sixty seconds comprising one single minute of our frazzled day each bear witness to more tragedy than our brains can comprehend, let alone measure.

Click, death. Click, death.

And looking back upon the history of humanity, it is always in these moments of catastrophic loss — the instantaneous death of thousands (Hiroshima, Hurricane Katrina, 9/11, the Oklahoma City bombing, the massive earthquake/tsunami in Japan, the list goes on and on…) — in which the internal goodness of humankind becomes visible.

Why is that? What is so morally corrupt with a world that waits for unspeakable grief to act with compassion?

I visited New York City three years after 9/11. You’d never guess what took place only three years prior by the way this city and its people were functioning… As if nothing had happened. As if they would all live forever, and the day-to-day manner in which they conducted their affairs held no weight over their sense of moral obligation to their fellow-man.

Click, death. Click, death.

Must we really be reminded? Must we depend so completely on horror and pain for our behavior towards others to matter?

It’s painstaking, just thinking about the implications this has over what has happened to our collective consciousness. We live in a world in which consumerism takes precedence over philanthropy; fashion has more appeal than inner beauty; religion is held in higher esteem than spirituality; and the world just keeps on spinning.

What if we all paused, simultaneously, and took just one moment to allow our focus to settle on the more substantial aspects of our existence?

What if, for even one day, we consciously made an effort to actually be what we believe ourselves to be? Compassionate. Intrinsically good-natured. Grateful for our freedoms — which so many men and women have bravely laid down their lives to provide for the rest of us…

Click, death. Click, death.

Every single second, people are losing this very opportunity to take a pause from the rat race and truly embrace the things held dear. What will it take for us to utilize each precious moment we are given?

Today is an important day. It’s a gift that wasn’t given to many, many others. Take advantage of the air in your lungs, the shoes on your feet, the loved ones still hanging around on planet earth. Go see them. Tell them what makes them important to you. Express your gratitude to the Maker above that you woke up this morning, and commit yourself to making this day matter somehow.

Even if it’s something as small as holding the door for a stranger; you have the power to change the world. All it takes is one gesture of kindness, and your intentions (once acted upon) become a thread of goodness, woven into the master fabric of our collective existence.

I believe in the goodness of humankind. Do you?