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** *** ** * as each day pulls me nearer towards the inevitable I grow reflective in youth I might have been shallower still noticing the events their significance but time seemed an un-emptiable well and days were rolling hills stretching out like a vivid landscape before me I'm sure I squandered many of them being morose unfocused distracted depressed overwhelmed undone haven't we all thrown important bits of our life away like detris and underestimated ourselves when truly we were only doing our best today I see myself differently I do not live my life on the surface but rather I am a deep pool of emotions shimmering and experiencing the small waves of feelings expanding out as I reflect on the colors of life my life and the lives that have intersected with my own who will remember us the way we were when there is no one left to remember when all who knew the slant of our shadows the footfalls of our steps the turn of our keys in the door the certain manner of our walking down a street that was ours when all of them are gone too who will recall a certain street a specific house where we lived or the color of the light we walked in and how we cherished our days when I reflect on my happiness it is like trying to see the bottom of the ocean sometimes how do we live on how will I live on I wonder and the wondering of it all keeps me awake up in the night typing on a computer or staring out at stars and growing clouds and into the chasm of darkness way up high grasping at infinity what bits are left of those who have gone on before us before me and what is this death and how does the weight of someone you love leave their body as they become lifeless and limp will someone be with me when I go or will I go alone is life or the joy of it THE weight which keeps us pinned to the earth is that why there are earth-bound spirits how we all relish each opportunity we dance again to have another turn to embrace another day in the light which is our very own joy our life/lives is this why it is so hard to leave is this why it is so very hard to watch others go even strangers' deaths move us the will is strong the thread of will holds us to the joy which is the best our life has to offer us it is a singular connectedness and connecting how hard it is for us for all and for mean when it is time to break that string * ** *** ** * March twenty-first 2017 4:39pm PST time/date stamped March twenty-second 2017 1:18am PST time/date stamped for second editing LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM/WORK AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR/WRITER MELISSA A HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD I've been wrestling with this great scientific and philosophical question for some time now; literally, how can something someone be gone that was only there moments ago ..I think this question has come up because I have had so many occasions to observe death and near-death lately. Maybe all this musing is just going through the stages of grief. Though I don't agree with the stages part. I think there are some people and pets we lose that we grieve our whole lives. No one teaches us how to grieve, only not how to. Or that it is frowned upon as an activity over any great length of time. I think we fail ourselves and others when we deny them opportunities to discuss their feelings, especially about something as complicated and inevitable as dying. Vote for this poem |
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