His Great Grief

Today he cries full warm tears

For the one who taught him

That it is ok to cry

Just one of the gifts she had given

So in that way he learned

Through her

To see gifts everywhere

What is the gift now

In having her taken

To live without the soft place

He rested his head

Kind arms hugging around him

He knew he would find a gift

It would only take some time

He also knew

He would never stop crying

This kind of grief would live close

Up under his skin

For the rest of his shining lifetime.

his great grief

 

Sadie’s Transition

Sadie had been sick

It was her time to take a rest

To feel the push

Of the never-ending dream

Upon taking her last breath

Sadie smiled and said,

“I’ve gone off to swim

As rose petal dew.”

And so now you can find Sadie

After your long sleep at night

In your garden

Where she has come to comfort you.

In Loving Memory

The flicker of our aarti candle

Dances on the marble

And rests

A glow on your face

Leave the fire burning

For when it is gone

There will be no use for this place

What is this place but for worship

And what is worship but for the flame?

 

The flame burns eternal

But in this life

It will only be contained

In one form for so long.

 

Her body lies constricted

In the same position

As when her soul had left it

Her skin with no trace

Of the glowing passion

That fueled the good–

The offering that was her life

All that is left is this empty temple

To be bathed

And kissed for one last time with rose petals.

Now

Death

Is in the exhale

Each moment

A rebirth

In the sweet

Breath in

I have died already ten thousand times today

And have forgiven myself for almost as many

As I breathe out

Grateful

As I inhale

The possibility of an instant

And almost as soon as I have lived it

Letting it go.

Waking Up After Our Rift

Last Fall

Having known I’d missed the mark

I went to bed

To dream away the blame

I took a fitful rest

With all sorts of frenetic forgiveness

And now

I wait

To breathe

What passion will unfold

Of yours to me

Patient

In this winter’s wait

To come into my own fullness

So only as you wake too

But when will that be

When will you feel yours

To wake with breath for me

Should I rise early

I fear I will miss

And take my first breath

Without your kiss

But maybe that is the intended gift

To know

I am already full

Even as I wake

Alone

After our rift.

She Is

A slave to the word

She looks for it everywhere

Listens

And when it comes through her

She makes love

Gives of her whole being

Lost in the warm push of it by her lungs

In the flow of it in soft tears.

For a while after it leaves her

She seems almost two-dimensional

In her patience

Stoic in her yearning

A woman of faith

At night

She lights a cream-colored sandalwood candle

Washing her hair in grace

Running sweet oil like love over her legs.

Marge Refuels

Women of a certain age

Grew knowing

It is better to give than to receive

So on occasion

Marge would bring a large plate full of oatmeal cookies

For all the women to enjoy at Sadie’s lovely teas

As Marge served the cookies

And Sadie poured the tea

The women agreed it was a fine time for a break

All said they were happy

To join at Sadie’s sparkling table

Then Marge stopped

To speak quietly of her deep ache

No, it wasn’t hunger

It wasn’t even the flu

It had come on slowly and had grown to be immense

Marge thought she was missing

Something deep inside her

You see Marge’s time to receive was overdue

In one quick instant all the women

Got up from the table

They hugged their arms around their kind and precious friend

The women stayed like that for hours

Wrapped up in Sadie’s kitchen

Until Marge’s face retained its usual soft sweet glow

All the women then thanked Sadie

It had been a productive morning

Their friend Marge had been refueled with their love.

Dear One,

Please always remember

You were made to give

But Dear One,

You are also to receive

Please go and find

That very special someone

Who will fill you

When more love is what you need.

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