We sit here
silent
with everything to say
and nothing said.
Breathing is so labored,
as if the shallow end of air
cannot carry the deep end words.
It is hearts that are tender and tired
not tongues...
and the body,
from all it has born -
injustices from within and without.
Have you seen the stunned bird
looking dead,
a shade of peaceful,
but for the rapid breath?
Now,
when she closes her eyes
I stand watch over a bit of fabric
fluttering like a curtain
with the metronomic rise and fall of her...
a sign for now
she is alive.
.
.
.
Sounds like the aftermath of a heart attach or similar event. Your words describe very well experiencing such moments.
ReplyDeleteThank you Anthony. A rough night for me, more so for her. If wishes would make us well...
DeleteIt happens all too often: everything to say, but nothing said.
ReplyDeleteThere's a reason we came to create the word we call: "melancholy."
Yes, that's an apt word. The day started better then most, then boom....melancholia and anxiety. Life is a roller coaster, but once you strap in, you're pretty much along for the ride :)
DeleteSometimes, i am at a loss for words,I want to comfort or sound wise and make things right . I know what I want to say, but i don't know how to say it.
ReplyDeleteShhhhhh, it will be alright!
Well I am realizing that there are times when we cannot make things right, as much as we want to, and it isn't even our responsibility. But caring hearts continue to care, and our first inclination is to try. (and that loss for words thing is so darn common amongst us!) Thank you Peggy.
Delete"... I am realizing that there are times when we cannot make things right..."
ReplyDeleteCaring hearts do continue to care, Ms. Annie. That is our own fatal flaw...
~shoes~
Not sure it's a flaw, but at times I am certain it's a burden. Oh, to just not give a damn, eh? And yet....maybe it's a gift :)
DeleteThis is beautifully written and you need no encouragement from the likes of me. The photo of that empty unused pool is a perfect complement to the poem. I love the opening stanza, the visual of the stunned bird and, of course, the closing lines, "a sign for now she is alive."
ReplyDeleteTragically human. We all go there eventually.
"the likes of you" :) You have no idea how much encouragement I need, day to day. May as well be oxygen. But working towards needing less. It must come from one's own soul to be kept there! Thank you. And yes, we will.
DeleteYou write the words under the words, my poet-friend. Sending hugs and love. xoxo
ReplyDeleteYou are supportive my Poetess friend! PFF, BFF. Hugs and love back my Marion.
Delete"I could never be
ReplyDeleteWhat you want me to
You pulled me under
To save yourself
You will never see
What's inside of me
I pulled you under just to save myself"
We do that. I think of the drowning man, so petrified of his own life gone, he will kill the savior with his need.
Deleteright,,,such a concept with transparent discription,,sometimes,,reckon? How are you Ma'um?
ReplyDeleteI'm good Mr. Glenn. Working on me, LOTS. Seems a selfish ambition, but a pot in pieces can't hold much. There is the light between fragments. There is no human answer for that. But it keeps us going until we are mended to some degree :)
DeleteCampfire soon? The weather is turning.
Oh my friend, you are in the depths of your human experience. I know this well. My mother passed into eternity just one week ago. It's as if she has been gone forever, yet in the same breath, as if she never left at all. I pray for Angels to carry you and for peace to enfold you. Sending you all of my love on the wings of a desert sparrow, Deb
ReplyDeleteI think that's a good level Deb...the "depth of human experience". I told my son once, "I'd rather be in the eye of your storm, than picking up debris afterwards. I wanted to be in the mess, at least to some degree. This doesn't translate well into all experience, but when we get dirty with life, we have soil enough to bloom.
DeleteHoping all is well with your bird. It's funny that you use this analogy. In my current piece, a father calls his daughter Baby Bird.
ReplyDeleteOf course it took me about seventeen reads to fully swallow your words. My head is far too small for such large thoughts.
But now I get it, and I hope all is well.
- Eric
It is a compliment, these 17 reads! I appreciate your patience with it. I like the poetry to be generalized enough that you could fit a character from your own life into it, yet understandable on the emotional level. Maybe I accomplished that. Thanks Spider Man.
Deletei wonder who. it's a human understandable wonder. i'm not fishing, just wondering.
ReplyDeleteand hoping you and those who wait(ed) with you, and the precious stunned bird, are alright.
i know like you do there are times we cannot make right. there is loss and betrayal and confusion and emptiness. and then, somehow, the sun rises again. it always does. not to say that that we are the same after as we were before. not to say that at all.
i've missed you here, annie. i root for you. i love your depth. maybe because in the mess of it all you are the real deal.
love always
kj
Ahhhh, in the mess, I am so trying. Wouldn't that be the pinnacle of IT all? To become the real deal? I do believe we are ever the same two days in a row. Each day layers upon us all it carried, and lifts from us all it took. It is good, for we are all interesting :)
Deletehugs
The tongue so often follows the heart as tender and tried.
ReplyDeleteThe relief felt at the end of the poem is palpable. Wow.
ReplyDelete