Tillie slumps in her wheelchair under hand-stitched patchwork for warmth. She’s shrunk with age, both body and mind. She stares, emotionally flat…until they place young grandson on her lap. They sing “Jesus Loves Me” off-key together and watch little birds chirp behind glass.
Eight years of Alzheimer’s…enough for anyone to suffer this long goodbye. Her breathing shallows as family gathers round. Last grandson arrives as they hold matriarch’s cool-veined hands in prayer. She quietly exhales one final breath after family members murmur, “Amen.”
lap quilt for keepsake
her once sharp eyes, now shadowed
trust we’ll meet again
…
Haibun on “momento Mori” linked to dVerse poets where Frank Tassone hosts pub for Memorial Day.
Join dVerse Poets where Lillian quotes Eccles. 3: 1-8, a time for everything.
“all is vanity,” says the preacher
life’s breath ~ “chasing after wind”
somewhere in the weary world
newborn baby first sucks in air
toddler tosses pebbles into pond
young girl twirls a wedding dance
farmer plants seed in hope of harvest
lovers laugh to embrace ~ weep, to not
developer digs dirt in hope of homes
man grieves loss of beloved wife
old woman stacks stones on beach
dying man expires with final sigh
somewhere in the weary world
“all is vanity,” says the preacher
life’s breath ~ “chasing after wind”
Dear God, why does everyone have to die? One by one, we leave this world cold and those left standing feel abandoned, depressed, hurt, and angry. We know that you understand deep emotion. After all, you lost your only Son…and that son wept at the grave of his friend. We believe you mourn with us. Yes, our final enemy wields a cruel stinger but you took the sting out of death for Uncle Raymond (“Rip”). You called him quietly in his sleep; he passed unexpectedly, without suffering. Thank you, Father, for your mercy, even in his final breath. We grieve but he rejoices, celebrating in your presence today; reunited with his wife, son, and sisters. He fell asleep in mysterious darkness and woke to a glorious morning!
breath of life recalled
death comes as thief in the night
sun will rise again
Raymond (right) died in early morning of brother Willis’ 90th birthday (8-18-18)
And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul. -Genesis 2:7 (KJV)
the soul
is a spark
is a flicker
is a flame
lit by holy fire
fanned by living breath
exhaled into existence
encoded in DNA
embodied in flesh
enveloped in love
to live
to learn
to laugh
to lament
until death separates.
never extinguished
ever released
to an eternity of life’s choice:
with or without the Keeper of souls.
Inspired, in part, by the scribblings of the beautiful souls who are dVerse Poets.
Kristjaan at Carpe Diem encourages us to write a “full circle” haiku series using twelve words (bold), one per line in listed order, on a wintertime theme.
hoar frost on window breath of heaven’s mist on trees morning light sparkles
scent of mistletoe cuddle under soft blanket fireplace embers glow
poem of december
children praying for first snow
clouds whisper promise
lights on Christmas tree
wrap gifts in shiny paper smile to see bright star
A poem of lament, in shape of candlestick, dedicated to family of Lukas Monsma
young voice sings to guitar
sweet, yet haunting
oh, my son, I can
hear your song
on the wind
memories
don’t leave us
alone in the dark
nearly pull us apart
by plucked heart strings
strumming addicted to grief
cold, thin, mountain air
stealing our breath
mingles yours
high in sky
i’m sorry for
what was unsaid
life hangs by a thread
as we still wait for you to
turn around and come home
…and sharing music by David Nevue, “Under a Cloud” and “The Long Regret”
a poem in my pocket 
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