Monday, May 25, 2015

Starshine and Spirit-speak



Open the window, so the spirits of the dying
can fly out and away, into the starry night.
May the song of the spheres serenade their passage,
moonglow seal up the opening in the veil
between their new world and ours.
Watch the early morning light 
slowly outline the rosy mountains,
then faintly tinge the sky 
with the pink of promise
a new day begins, for we, the living.

This moment, as every moment,
all of the waters of the world
are traveling in riversong to the sea,
bearing life along its precipitous passage,
down the mountain slopes,
plunging over falls,
pooling in quiet eddies,
till finally it reaches the ocean's roar
and finds itself home again,
on tomorrow's shore. 

There be spirits here. Come walk 
in the ancient forest with me.
Hear Brother Wind whispering the shaman's song
softly through the branches of Grandfather Cedar.
If you listen closely, you will hear 
him speak.
He knows those who are lost, 
those who have journeyed on,
those who will return again. 
He will bring the touch 
of the one you have loved so well
on the evening breeze.
When the puff of wind touches your cheek,
know it was sent to you with love
from the spirit world,
to gently dry your tears. 

I wasnt sure where this poem was heading when I started off. I was remembering my mother's death, and how it felt like her spirit was flying towards the window, out and away into the night.

A short while ago, my friend, whose husband died a year ago, told me she had waited almost a year for a visitation from her husband, who had made visits to everyone else in the family. One night she finally dreamed of him. They were talking and laughing together, in the dream, and then she started to cry and said, "But you're not here!"  And she said he told her, "But I AM here," as he wiped the tears under her eyes. And she woke, still feeling the touch of his fingers on her cheek.

11 comments:

  1. So heartfelt and I really feel for your friend. But isn't it is said that soul lives forever. In our Hindu Holy Bool " Bhagwad Geeta" it is said that soul can never be destroyed or cut by a weapon or lost anywhere it is eternal and only changes its form.

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  2. wonderful depiction of the spirit world, mi amiga.
    if but the unrecognizable quiet of the spirit voice in this mundane existence means they are peaceful and calm then let there be that 'quiet voice'.

    wonderful as always, mi amiga

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  3. What a wonderful experience for your friend.

    I believe we all have the need to know our loved ones are okay and still with us.

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  4. This is so beautiful and moving, Sherry. So beautiful.

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  5. There's such tenderness in this poem and in your words after. Funny, last night I dreamed I was with my father-in-law. He made me laugh, like he always did. I had never dreamed him before. I love your poem's mysticism. Lovely!

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  6. How fascinating about your friends husband finally visiting her. And what a flight to be free final of this mortal coil. To join in the spirit of all things around us. I have a feeling you might join in with the trees when the time comes.

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  7. Wonderful, almost romantic, tale of the journey of our spirits to their final rest. I don't know what this or other does at our death but we do like to think that it won't be the end for our inner, non-tangible self. I like the version you wrote here.
    Didn't know where it would go? Perhaps on of those spirits guided your word arrangement.
    When Mom died we hurried up to Nebraska to be with her last moments but we were about an hour too late.
    As we flew over the puffy clouds just south of Omaha our across-the-row seating mate told us that she could almost "see" angels perched on those clouds. It turned out that exact time was the time Mom passed. We couldn't see the angels though, the mate 'almost' did see.
    We are to begin our escapades and will be real scarce for over a month.
    And the kids had three rabbits for a day last week. We think this might signal a brood of baby rabbits in about a month.
    ..

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  8. it's beautiful when we can feel someone we lost so close that we almost sense their touch...

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  9. He knows those who are lost,
    those who have journeyed on,
    those who will return again.
    He will bring the touch
    of the one you have loved so well
    on the evening breeze.

    The people we love.. never cease to exist... they live on in our hearts.. in our memories! Its true.. the ones we love.. come to visit us in our dreams.. make us feel their presence.. perhaps they are granted a boon from God :)

    Truly felt that this poem was worth applauding to.. its absolutely heart-warming!
    Lots of love,
    Sanaa

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  10. I think I would find your friend's experience both very special and moving but also heart-wrenching. Hopefully the memory would help me 'gently dry (my) tears'.

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  11. I do very much like the idea of the spirits of the dying flying out into the starry night.

    Such a poignant story about the visitation your friend had from her deceased husband, Sherry. I do so hope that this visit gave her some comfort.

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