Grief's Shadow

I started writing again -- here is my first poem:

Grief’s Shadow


I am living in our physical dimension
My son and husband are living in theirs--
I sense the connection
Like the sound of my chime’s vibration.


I sit, I listen
If I were deaf
Would I grieve the same?


My birds are balanced on the back fence
Playing tag.
The wind chimes singing their metal tune
Claiming the air with sound.


Fall seems imminently close
I will miss the rays of light
Glittering off the cottonwood leaves.
I will miss the warm mornings
On the deck
Silently listening…


My hummingbirds venture to hang in the air
Two feet from my face
To whisper thoughts
Of healing


The summer squash
Is nearly ready--
Sweet yellow jewels


Mr. Jay picks at his black seeds
Nodding to me a ‘thank you.’
Where are you David?
In a classroom of spirits reflecting past journeys?
Sitting beside me smiling that little smile?
Flying again with loved ones?
Where have you gone my beloved?


Our fruit trees withheld their fruit this year, and
David left…


Thank you for all your prayers....
Barbara~

More Reflections...

Hello Everyone,
Many of you know that I have recently lost my husband and that my life has, yet again, taken a curve along my life's path. It is surreal that I would be going through this grief process again so soon...

My words are not flowing like they usually do when I sit down to write; it's like searching for what to say and write instead of opening to the thoughts and automatically letting them shine on the page. I know this will become easier as the weeks and months pass, so I have set aside my new book to write in my personal journal once again. I say "once again" for all those who have read Tales of Addiction know I have been through the pain of loss before.

David, my dear husband, was a gentle, loving, generous man to all he met. He lived a life of a solid work ethic and being of service to those who were in need of his talents. His big smile and shining eyes will be missed by many. Our life together (this lifetime) began when I was fifteen and he was nineteen years old. Sweethearts until his passing, those fifty years seemed to fly by and yet, held many small lifetimes within them. 

One of my dear girl friends resited the poem below at David's memorial service which is so perfect and captures so much of what he loved:

Deep wet moss and cool blue shadows
  Beneath a bending fir,
And the purple solitude of mountains,
  When only the dark owls stir --
Oh, there will come a day, a twilight,
  When I shall sink to rest
In deep wet moss and cool blue shadows
  Upon a mountain's breast,
And yield a body torn with passions,
  And bruised with earthly scares,
To the cool oblivion of evening,
  Of solitude and stars.
                               ~Lew Sarett

Love & Joy,
Barbara~