How do you deal with a loss? |
Messages The hiss of water on the sand slowly abrades the tumbled land. The wind swept dune grass adds its hum, waves beat a rhythm and become a melancholic symphony. I walk the shore, immersed in loss, the world around me turned to dross. Once seen, beauty and purity have faded to obscurity, my path filled with uncertainty. Her final day, I hid my fear to give her strength. The end was near. I prayed to God to ease her pain, and yet my pleas were all in vain as she awaited death’s cold kiss. Venomous thoughts! How could I ask for my release from this last task? I turned away from vows I made; I could not stay. I was afraid as courage failed. I was remiss. My cries are uncontrollable; my sorrow inconsolable as I collapse upon the ground and darkness sweeps in all around. There’s no escape from my own hell. The blackness finds a hold, within. There is no penance for my sin. Despair’s harsh whisper calls to me to end it all; to set me free. Only my blood will break this spell. Amidst the flotsam, my hands find a broken bottle. In my mind this is the message I’ve been sent. With my head bowed, I give assent. I watch the glass carve into me. The pain runs deep as I engrave ‘EVIL’, branding me a slave to my own failings as a man who rejects the master plan of some heartless divinity. The hot red flow serves as a balm and, suddenly, within the calm I’m aware that all’s gone silent, wind and waves no longer violent. I look and see ... infinity. The sea’s like a shining mirror. I look within it; coming nearer, a mist from which I see arise a shape that brings tears to my eyes: the one I failed in time of need. This time I do not run in fear but stand my ground as she draws near. I am prepared to pay my debt, my failing I cannot forget. What ere she asks, I will accede. She lifts her arm and points at me as light erupts beneath the sea. I look and see a man’s torment, a hollow shell, emotion’s spent, with a word carved on his chest: LIVE. I close my eyes, the message clear from those who’ve gone to those still here. The load we bear is ours alone. There is no reason to atone but always reason to forgive. The hiss of water on the sand slowly abrades the tumbled land. The wind swept dune grass adds its hum, waves beat a rhythm and become a song of hope reborn in me. Notes: An entry for the August round of "Invalid Item" dross - waste matter; refuse remiss - failing in what duty requires Thank you for taking the time to read my poem. Please, as long as you’re here, leave a comment. Criticisms, thoughts, reactions, yes – even praise – are all equally welcome . |