Sunday, March 23, 2014

Death In Early Spring

I was born on a Sunday in late spring, nearly summer,
into a world already in motion,
just another new leaf alive in the daylight.

I will die on a Thursday in early spring, barely gone from winter,
and I will leave a world that remains in motion,
expressing itself in all the wings and blooms that take my place.

I regret the things I longed for that did not, or cannot now happen.
There will not be another love,
or any of the new beginnings I always depend upon
to assuage the losses and disappointments.

Still, I have lived pretty bravely.
I haven't been afraid, in the end,
to put all my colors on the canvas.

All of my life, I have felt the lack of something or someone,
always hidden around some corner I could never negotiate,
just out of sight,
too far to call.

In a little while,
I will find myself the one called,
by a voice so beloved and remembered
that it will astonish me--
so much, that I may hardly notice
that I have left,
and the world goes on.
_____


 

18 comments:

TexWisGirl said...

this was beautiful. we can only hope to die this way.

HermanTurnip said...

I have a reoccurring hope that there's something to this reincarnation belief. It seems a shame that we're here for such a short time. Would be great to come back for a second round to see how things are shaping up.

Sioux said...

The haunting quality of Emmylou's voice matches perfectly with the haunting images in your poem, Shay.

Marcoantonio Arellano said...

ah, to live. too many zombie about unaware of living.

blueoran said...

A hymn for homeless ghosts indeed. There's an old Irish tale that once a person has felt yearning's wave crash through them, they can never quite feel home again. We live in the betweens for better and worse. Such a gentle, affirming, bittersweet poem.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Well, this one has me tearing up over here on the other side of the world... What a bow to Death and all her handmaidens.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

You have spoken the words in my heart, too, Shay - the love that wont come, the unfulfilled dreams....but that we live bravely even so.........one of my favorites of yours. We have some years left (hopefully) to continue bravely on, fellow traveler. Your words speak straight to my heart. Beautifully done.

Helen said...

Monday morning and I am in tears .. tears motivated by the sheer beauty of this poem.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Longing and loss and love - all woven together with great care and craft. Loved this.

hedgewitch said...

Perfect song for this sad looking back/looking forward that is not without its moments of victory and peace, and of course, the wrenching knowledge that some things just can never be. But I think the essence of that something around the corner always seems to evaporate if you actually run it down, and it then turns into something else, an unrecognizable, bitter--or worse, tasteless--residue of what it was in your heart's fancy, so this way may be the best way, after all. Beautiful writing, Shay.

Mama Zen said...

This gave me chills, Shay.

Poet Laundry said...

This poem and image match perfectly...delicate.

Kelly said...

Where did my comment go, mhm... Ok well, I feel the deep longing in this, for connection outside of ourselves, is it really there, or is it a figment of our imagination lil Gemini xxx

G-Man said...

"Before I go
Into...The Big Sleep
I want to hear
I want to hear
The Scream
Of the Butterfly!"
(Jim Morrison)

Grandmother (Mary) said...

What I most deeply appreciate in this fine poem is the last verse. It reminds me of something I realized long ago and want to keep knowing. Astonishment is good at such a moment.

alissa apel said...

I love Emmy Lou Harris. The first time I watched her sing live was in 1999, in Savannah, Georgia. She was wonderful live.

Sara said...

Bittersweet, but that last verse just touches the soul, reminding of a new world and the love that begins again:~)

Beautiful words dancing together with that lovely image!

myinnerchick.com said...

*****I will find myself the one called,
by a voice so beloved and remembered
that it will astonish me--
so much, that I may hardly notice
that I have left,
and the world goes on.****


Stunning, as usual. X