the sound of her heart…
numb, dark, full of sorrow
as she sobs and sobs
Forehead on the floor
Never before would she say all those words with such convictions
This time, it seems only the most offensive words would ease some of the pain she’s held inside
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She wasn’t cursing God.
She was cursing the agony of grief…
The agony of mourning
It is Hell, alright.
The autumn wind hits her face as she steps out
Bone aching cold air seeps through her layers of clothes
Her body heat dissipates, her warmth no more
Menacing grey clouds gather together, getting ready for a storm
They too will shed their tears
Brown sycamore leaf performs it’s last dance as early autumn dusk sets in
The Fall’s dance…
The leaf, like a stretched out hand twirling helplessly in the wind
lands on a puddle of rain
For one second, it sees the last reflection of itself in the water
There in the pool of water, it will rot and decay
Feeding the earth
All that it has left
Giving away til the last fragment of the leaf blade turn into dust
Magic dust in the fertile soil
That might one day
Ignite that light in her heart once more
Allowing her to see,
All that was lost is still there
Spirit is always there
Even when she can no longer see the flesh or feel the embrace,
She can feel the light illuminating from within, holding her close…
Holding her right next to love, tenderness and grace
Even when there is no more flesh
She is held, alright.
She is held in the light, she is never let go.
In memory of Norm… Friday 21st April. Rest in bliss and peace.
No amount of proper goodbyes would be enough… but i am glad that we had a proper one, even though I was oblivious it would be the last goodbye.