[Chai]

So, I wrote this a while back...and it's sortof a vague little poem, about the experience of grief, and hope for some sort of newness, while still remembering our loved ones...

It's not very direct. I guess you could call it...metaphorical. Not sure if it makes sense, but anyway...


Untitled

by Chai

Pendulum pendulum
endlessly shaking, waking
waking the prisoner.

He walks, he drifts,
his eyes lift from the mist
and meet the sun that has
suddenly come into
being.

Being new, being alive
he walks into the horizon
Steps across a field
of yellow lights
No anger, no fright
from the night anymore
His heart is not sore
Nor do his hands
tremble in rage, in
sustenance lost

He is found, he is
a cacophony of melodies
that stutter and sink
and slide into a new
falling, a water falling
of jubilant cries
and sighs and
no more lies.

Speak, shout, leap
through the air like
the porpoise, the gazelle
away from grief, from hell
from the need to need
nothing at all.

Now it is fall
and the golden leaves
glitter, sparkle, lie
in warm beds on the ground
whispering, whispering of
the love and light
that they have
received.

________________________

[kath]

Chai,

I think your poem is amazing. It speaks volumes of our struggle, the chaos, the hope for our loved ones. Thank you for sharing it.

Kath

[Chai]

Thank you very much, kath.