Blessings Dear Late Mum And Dad
Mum was a lady who once sang at her daily
chores, when all was well, an opera would sail
from her sweet lips, voice lost in an epic romance,
while roses bloomed in her garden and starry eyes
held onto pleasures – until sadness took the helm
she was unable to hold back those waves of tears.
Heavy was her burden as old age took form,
even when ocean of life was calm, imagined
fears would fade...then reappear unexpectedly
to entice an already unsteady trust. It must have
been hard confronting those demons that brought
humiliation; and in the end was mum's demise.
They said she had ravings of dementia that would
bubble over in her mind, but I saw a lady who was
lost by ravages of time with no release, cornered by
floods of misunderstanding.
When you reach out to be unshackled, but nobody
comes, chains become heavy: the clanking never
seems to end. So she closed petals on her blooms,
wished spirit to fly. All I wish is that you went through
tunnel of bright light to a place of eternal happiness.
Thinking about you dad at this time of Samhain,
how you taught me to be independent, face all
obstacles full on, and not to forget where I came
from. How those words resonate with me today.
Remembering as I stood motionless at your
bedside on that early morning, unable to fully
comprehend you final end. “He'll last another
night,” they said...where hands once warm
trembled then went cold as ice at dawn's first light.
Now as eve of Halloween approaches with waning
of crescent moon, your flame loiters mellow upon
fading impressions. Once recalling those restful
eyes sleeping, until solemn calling of the end
brought you relief. I imagined those winding
personal visions when you died and lost reality.
It's been many years since your passing, but late at
night I do wonder if somewhere up in the darkness
of space you are there as part of the universe, a star
maybe now bright, or flying across galaxies on your
last personal journey, becoming one with the heavens.