After the recent passing of a close family friend, I find myself in my own world of thoughts and images, words and pictures, which all bear no syllables.
I find myself here, on my keyboard, my fingers aching to write about my emotions, my fingers aching to release emotion somehow.
The aching leads me to sentences that flow and that wind around one another. Here is the poem that results.
I hear your voice,
It meets me, you meet me,
Every time your face comes to my mind.
You reach out with a laugh
(And comforting smile)
While the word kiddo echoes clearly in my ears.
I saw you before you took that white bed, with its white sheets,
And the white faces of nurses surrounded you.
When I saw you last, you smiled at me,
Your eyes bright as sunshine
(With rays that extended miles and beyond),
Your hands warm as mittens soft from years of wear.
We talked about when you first met my family,
Before I was even born,
And you told me stories of friendship, of your past and your days now,
You spoke of times when clock hands were surrounded by chuckles.
I am thankful I saw you that day,
I am thankful that you were that way –
A giving spirit with generosity for miles.
You have enriched so many lives
With sweetness we cannot duplicate in form,
A recipe we will never match,
But whose flavor we will always remember.
We remember you, we love you, we honor you.
© 2012 Christy Birmingham