Thursday, November 27, 2008

old poems i found in my documents...

by Martha Parks Johnson

The first snow would fall
in the secret of night.
I’d wake to find
A wonderland of white ice.
My breath would lightly
frost the window
and I would hug my quilt tight
as Daddy stirred the sleeping
embers of fire
into waking blaze.

Later bundled in his old Pea jacket
in boots a size too large
I would step the first step
into the hushed wilderness.
I would wander throughout
the field discovering tracks
of squirrel and fox,
pausing to see
the tiny chit chit scratching
of chickadee and wren.

In the orchard
trees were black against
the aching whiteness,
stark and gnarled like an
old man’s hand upon his cane.
The cedars feathery and green
defiant in their vividness
danced along fence rows
as I clapped with delight
startling the jays and grackles
into flight , dark specters
against the jewel blue of sky.

Beyond the Veil
by Martha Parks Johnson

pure and shimmering
intensely white
me in.

my breath hastens
to slip
from my body.

My heart
ceases to beat.
I am floating
spinning in the light

No longer flesh
No longer bone
I am fleeting
I am,
I become
Pure and shimmering
intensely white.

Too Numb

I have forgotten how to grieve,
Leaving the land of loss
I left the skill

Tucked out of sight,
I didn’t remember
how searing
the pain of death
could be.

Watching the body slow,
watching the breath soften
and still
watching the light dim

All these things
I forgot.

I forgot the feeling of the heart
pulsing to the beat of the clock
until the last second came
and went
and the heart stopped
stilled to beat no more.

I forgot the tears that flow
hot and scalding
rivers of grief
overflowing running
down the cheeks
salty and slick

I forgot the wrenching
of the breath as I held it
the sobs escaping

I forgot it all
I forgot how to let go.
And now I must remember
and let the pain
once again...

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