Categories
Poetry

Heaven on Earth

I am the the trees and the wind.

Two melted into one:

Body and soul

travelling the pink lace road

of heaven on earth.

Categories
Poetry

Heaven

Heaven is

the delicate slice of sun

on dry

cracked

soil.

Categories
Poetry

In the Stars

Meet me in the stars

my precious little ones.

And we will dance

and play

and love

without the endings

human life

must eventually bring.

red and blue hot air balloon floating on air on body of water during night time
Photo by Bess Hamiti on Pexels.com

Categories
Life Nature

The Sky

I look up and there it is. The sky.

Just like before.

Just like all my other days.

And though it seems like nothing much has changed…

Everything is different.

Because now… I can finally see the sky.

seaport during daytime
Photo by Pok Rie on Pexels.com

Oh, heavens, it’s beautiful, isn’t it? The sky.

And now that I’ve finally seen it, I know.

It’s never been just the sky, has it?

It’s always been a feeling.

It’s always been a home.

A rolling, tumbling, shining one.

Thank goodness I can finally see the sky.

silhouette of bird above clouds
Photo by Flo Maderebner on Pexels.com

I don’t know if I’ll always see the sky like this.

With eyes that connect me to it and it to me.

And, actually, I don’t know if that really matters.

Because, right now, at this moment…

I see it, I feel it, I know it.

The sky.

Finally, I can see the sky.

And finally, I can see my place beneath it.

woman stands on mountain over field under cloudy sky at sunrise
Photo by Victor Freitas on Pexels.com

Categories
Life

When You Became the Sun

I promised this virtual space of mine that I’d sprinkle some heart into it, and so grows this poem: planted from a memory, watered with love.

I felt this introduction necessary because I am well aware that grief is an almighty thing, and although this poem is—quite literally— shining with comfort and hope; it also speaks of loss. For those of you whose grief runs deep and new: I give you my blessing to stop reading here.

This poem was inspired by my beautiful Grandmother—a ray of pure sunshine in my life, and in the lives of all those who knew her. She passed away a few years ago, and this story took place on the day of her funeral.

That day, I wanted to believe that she was there with us.

So I believed.

And, every time I see the sun…I still believe.

 

WHEN YOU BECAME THE SUN

 

The day you grew your angel wings,

The sun shone warm and true,

While others saw a shining sun,

I looked, and I saw you.

 

The way the sun fell on my back;

A cape to still the grief,

A ring of gold around the clouds—

it filled me with relief.

 

The tears were wet upon our cheeks,

We thought you’d gone for good,

‘Take heart,’ the sun whispered to me,

‘You’ve all misunderstood.’

 

‘I’ve given her my shine, today,

It’s why she feels so near,

She’s telling you the pain has gone;

She knows that you can hear.’

 

Now every time I see the sun,

I hear your sweet hello,

‘Hello,’ I sing right back to you,

‘I’m glad you didn’t go.’

 

 

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