Three years later

As the bright sun makes away across the too blue early Spring sky

I recall how you lost your life three years ago, yes that was April as well.

I was not there for your last breaths, just as you were not there for my first breaths.

Yet, it makes no difference now. I never knew if you were there and you knew not if I was there.

There was a great loss of love in our family, in my childhood.

I know now that either you learned to love later or I learned to accept love later.

It was just buried down in there somewhere, beneath the grey muck and pain.

I can picture it now, love beating through the grey muck, a bright yellow feeling of hope.

I can sometimes think of you fondly, of your pride over my accomplishments.

I can push down the stare you provided at the showdown, the blank emptiness and traces of nothing there

I can see clearly now how my own suffering moves me to help others, to connect and care more deeply

And also how it holds me back from others, unable to take the time and make the risk

I can see how everyday my own attachment and aversion to our family impacts me

And then I wish I would take the pain out of my heart pocket

Toss it up into the Spring wind that blows across ice and snow

And watch it fly away back to the universe, scittering away across the river and out to sea

I would also reach in and pull the lump out of my throat, the one that sticks there

Day in and day out, since the day you made me an orphan

An adult orphan, but nonetheless I said it today, I am an orphan

Sometimes too alone in this world to breathe freely

And the vast ocean of loneliness inside reaches a high tide

The waves crashing about in my heart

This three years later.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s