The Absence of Wavelength

White Winged (Revised) from pandemic

White Winged (Revised)
from the pandemic

I hope you know darling
I can't be the wild garden butterfly
haphazardly flapping white wings
before your aromatic hyacinth,
lily of the valley bell sprays,
amid spring tulips daring symmetry
and other hand-me-down heirlooms
longing my tender hands weed, divide,
surround your beautiful, wide eyes
envisioning eternal symphony, nearing
like infinity, in an instant taken
by storm, gnawing rodents and bespecked
insects with voracious appetites
— like mine — who needs your love, too.

I'll be white-winged wherever you are,
flowing but separating from our past
to move beyond, fading forgotten into
the blue, clouded vault of mystery --
beyond the dust of towering pine
— swaying, judging -- and below the ground
with soil ever-loving, always nurturing
our shared desire of blooms sprouting,
graceful garden butterflies showing
— arrive — to replace my ego.


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Coda
The most beautiful melody at memorial
you can't hear play
in this empty row eternally alone.
You clutch my hand
as if knowing my suffering heals your own.
in bed each night in earth silence
you tenderly clutch my soul's remains.

My eyes only for the spinning ceiling fan
whooshing away sounds repeating tiresome,
eroding guilt I cannot fully love
until I know you celebrate me again.

I've come to realize I broke the vision
you had for me, of a silent knight long ago,
when the white steed suddenly died at your distressed feet...
when you realized I became the helpless one,
and you would have to shoulder me from then
and beyond every tomorrow until I'm ash
scattered on breezes sending me hopeful
in that morning bed with delightful things
I never had eyes to appreciate, like your longing
before my soul's return to you, darling.



Can’t fully justify
But then, who with intricate webbing ill-devised
can free from our own destiny trap.

Are you getting any of this? — creator of Community, Dan Harmon, supposedly in his sleep
Deep