This beautiful collage was created for me
by my friend Steve, The Unknown Gnome,
one of our early Poets United poets,
who sadly left this world too soon this week.
I am referring to Pup in the following poem,
whose spirit I hope still accompanies me
along the beach.
We were traveling together
when you took the turning
where the Disappeared go,
and were seen no more.
I could not follow. The way was barred.
Still, I continued walking,
carrying your soul with me
in a small wooden box,
hidden under my cape,
held close to my heart.
When I tire, and falter,
am tempted to turn back,
I can hear you thumping inside your box.
You will not let me abandon the journey.
(Asleep, she found herself
crossing a barren desert.
There was a river ahead,
and she could hear voices, singing,
coming around the bend.
They were coming to get her,
but then she came back into her body.
Not time yet.)
Death is a river, turbulent, roaring,
through time-worn rock-walled chasms
green with weeping.
It dashes our brains out on the rocks
so the eagles may feed,
then settles us, lighter and relieved
of our earthly burden,
in rippled ponds along the shore,
where beaver and wolves may find us.
I will meet you there
at twilight
on the last day.
At midnight, a ghostly spectre
glides mistily along the shore.
She is beckoning,
but I pretend that I am blind.
She is calling. I pantomime
that I am deaf and cannot hear.
Not time, yet.
These words are a pathway
between the time when you were here
and now.
They are as full of your absence
as my heart.
I am still traveling.
You always did go
before me on the path.
I am getting just
a little closer.
Not time yet. Not yet.
This poem was written in 2014. I borrowed some lines for a collaboration with Paul Scribbles last year. But this is the original. I am feeling my mortality these days, and decided to share it with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United this weekend.
a heart felt write...full of emotion... well done
ReplyDeleteYou have captured the journey well, Sherry. A moving poem. Life is indeed (I think) a turbulent river...but eventually, on the other side, all is at peace. No, it is not your time yet, Sherry. May you have many years ahead and reunite with Pup on the other side!
ReplyDeletethe soul in a wooden box under the cape.. what a heartbreaking image that is...
ReplyDeletePup's ashes, in his urn. Sigh. Still missing him, seven years later.
DeleteReally like the soulful journey in your writing here. Excellent image to set the feel of your poem too.
ReplyDelete"These words are a pathway between the time when you were here and now"..This is beautifully poignant.
ReplyDelete...with every step forward we take, we get closer to that mountain that tickles the sky, the tree that plays in the clouds, the river that forever runs never standing still, for the Eagle that that channels our souls above and the wolf that traverses the land holds our hand and howling for us in the vibrations of the Universal song.
ReplyDeleteWe all will be one, with Pup and Jules we shall soon together run in fun!
Love your words, mi amiga. They transcend the mundane.
Thank you , my friend. Your words, as always, are poetry.
DeleteWhomever we love in this world whether companion pet or companion spouse or lover we hope they will be waiting for us at the end. What beautiful words you have written to give us hope of that time Sherry.
ReplyDeleteNo definitely not time yet..i love the images and warmth that remembering brings here
ReplyDeleteA heartfelt poem, Sherry. I really love the lines:
ReplyDelete'Still, I continued walking,
carrying your soul with me
in a small wooden box,
hidden under my cape,
held close to my heart'.
It's significant on this Mothering Sunday (in the UK) when thinking about my mum makes me tearful, especially with the arrival of my grandson.
Oh, one soul having left, one newly arrived. How comforting that is.
DeleteWonderfully expressed Sherry. Indeed, we need to continue on journey of life without retreating and with a belief that our loved ones are with us.
ReplyDeleteIt is good there is still time to share this, and let those who walk with you here feel the lapping water at your feet. A full-hearted savor of the presence and prescience of that water as both of life and death. Sorry for your loss, and thanks for this fuller heart.
ReplyDeleteOh this breaks my heart and reminds me of all loved ones past, 2-legged and 4-legged, and how much I miss them. Big hugs to you my friend!
ReplyDeleteA very thoughtful and beautiful contemplative piece. Your pupper was lucky to be so well loved.
ReplyDeleteThe lingering presence of a loved one, with whom one hopes to be reunited one day - all honestly and beautifully captured here Sherry. Good to read you again.
ReplyDeletea moving and beautiful poem of remembrance.
ReplyDeleteno, Sherry, it is not your time yet.
Not as long as we are here, and take each breath, it is "not time yet." But the time will come, and when she does, we will welcome her.
ReplyDeleteI also like to think Pup is with you, ever following your footprints in the sand.
This took my breath away...absolutely beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThe journey's end gets closer with every breath, but there are always days when it feels closer... maybe the death of others that makes us sense the end... You wrote this so very touching.
ReplyDeletethe spirit lives on and is companion in the knowing, guiding in sorrow and loss, as well as offering the strength to keep on in the moment, as well as preparing for the inevitable, which can either be a torment or a comfort - and I sense that you feel comforted, despite the actual absence.
ReplyDeletePeace to you and of course, to Pup - rainbow bridges will eventually shine, when the time is the right one.
That hope strenghtens us along the path. A heartfelt write Sherry
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday
much love...
Hugs Sherry--it is the path--and we all have to walk it in our own way--Your love for Pup just shines in this piece
ReplyDeleteAh. Those ashes held close to your heart. I keep the ashes of my two beloved kitties close as well. Last summer I inserted my mother's ashes in her mother's grave. This summer I will journey again to insert her cat's ashes in our family cemetery. TraVeling towards those we have loved and lost seems to be a long journey but we will get to them again when our time is come. Your love for Pup will hold you to the end when you two will be together again.
ReplyDeleteWhat a love you had.
ReplyDeleteI know your heart was broken when you lost your beloved companion. You could not cross the bridge with him as your journey was intended to continue.
ReplyDeleteThis part of the poem really stirs the heart.
carrying your soul with me
in a small wooden box,
hidden under my cape,
held close to my heart.
This winter I have felt further alone on my journey to clouds than I have for ages. Thank you for this beautiful piece. I am so sorry to hear of Steve's passing.
ReplyDeleteThat was awesome.
ReplyDeleteTake your time :-)
ZQ
Not just yet Sherry...not just yet ( for us all)
ReplyDeleteYou always did go
ReplyDeletebefore me on the path.
I am getting just
a little closer.
Not time yet. Not yet.
When the time is up one more fades away. A great tribute as a fitting send-off Sherry!
Hank
Beautiful! The last stanza brought a tear. Sometimes feeling ones mortality can confer a serenity of acceptance - and I felt that here.
ReplyDeleteThe picture is stunning. A precious thing that speaks so exquisitely to the loving bond you and Pup will share ~ always ~
authentic truth as always!
ReplyDeleteWe have to make the most of every day now. No one know when their time is up here.When I think of the terrible suffering on this earth caused by greed of humanity I can only give thanks that we have been so lucky to have been born in the countries we have. We have shelter and food and so many millions do not. We are blessed.
ReplyDelete