Moving Forward

This grief is fresh like

the air that I breathe,

upsetting my equilibrium;

leaving me unbalanced,

refusing to cease;

why am I so sensitive,

consumed with heavy spirit?

Inner psyche nagging persistently,

already told me to prepare for

bad news on the horizon,

 

sadly too soon it came,

like wild horses galloping

through my brain;

curl up inner voices,

or loose yourself on

the wild plains,

accompanied by

dark shadows

creeping across

barren tundra

where souls run free,

 

there's no thorns to

spike the restless there,

only desired energies

rapidly shifting;

providence intervening

to alleviate

present circumstances

which now conceals the past.

 

For me tomorrow's

hidden faraway,

but should time ahead

shimmer and I be breezy,

then with enthusiasm

shall eagerness return:

able again to easily

converse with robin,

no shame in this

reverie for me:

even when this

little bird with charm

displays how greatly

mystifying my words,

flying away...maybe

not even understanding,

but I cannot be sure.

 

Were you in shock

when departing on

your final journey,

like a moth drawn to light?

I personally see myself

melting inside, like

candle wax where

flame wavers;

waxing fragrance

dripping visions

into a congealed mass,

 

sealing thoughts

where only you exist,

loosing my rhythm

always leaves me

unable to move forward:

when there's worries revealed.

 

Dedicated to the sadness of

loosing my Uncle, who

tragically died alone.

May he rest in peace.

 

1940 to 2021.