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Thursday, November 29, 2007

Almost a Song

we forced our hearts to give
seed beneath tired ground
to earth our Life's landscape;

like the tight and total embrace
of the living loving the dead
wrapped around each other,

silently we buried what was left,
the ultimate funeral where God
died and irrevocably changed forever,

defying hopes that tried to re-build,
but simply fell on the shore
of the painfully familiar,

remaining as a reminder
of what we once were;

islands of devastation that kept us
from drowning, yet not knowing

when the tsunami would resurrect its infliction;
ripples surging inwards to touch

tired souls that needed breath as benediction
more than pity as such;

we became a fragment of a memory
spinning off to replay endlessly,

happiness and sadness cradling
the same thought, word, gesture, sound,

anything and everything run aground,
the future became yesterday;

bruised laughter encroaching
into boundaries that no longer mattered,
how even eating the food we ate together

took on a different story,
just daily living is a small victory now,
but there is no closure for the mourning

that comes with the end of day,
you have to go on singing
even though you're almost a song,

even if the loving is done
the dead must have a say; for
Life would not have it any other way.

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