Holding Hands with my Ghost
I get a jump on my upcoming
death by taking my ghost
for a walk in the woods,
the grass is tender dry
and without a sound we slip
past the low water pond where
the lilies have lost their flags
and go to a trinity of red oaks
who share a base of gnarled roots.
Astonished to see last week’s wind
has taken down two of the three,
my ghost chuckles that the Father
and Son are on their way to rot
but Holy Spirit is holding up well.
Not funny I think. On my knees
digging black cohosh from beneath
the fallen trunks, my arm, sliced
by a wid rose thorn, bleeds onto
the ground. Like a priest giving
benediction my ghost calls out: even
when your grand children are forgotten
by their grand children, this soil
will remember the taste of you
the whole thing is a mini sermon—reminder to go about it in the “not funny i think.”
WOW! Your blood is as rare as they come. Much love brother.
this poem has great imagery and has great interplay between the narrator and his ghost. love this!
This is sculpture
Makes me feel as if I have
Visited a cathedral.
love the hopeful ending
I love all of this. I had to laugh–in a really good way– at “the Father and Son are on their way to rot.” I also love “the lilies have lost their flags.” Not much I don’t love.
I thought it was funny
did you mean tender or tinder?
I had no idea what cohosh is – thanks,
love the end
Wonderful poem, Jim! Love its tender theology & humor & poignancy. A keeper.
This poem is a song I will hum all day
Wow this is something else. I love the thought of taking one’s ghost to help a transition and it’s taunting you…and those last lines! So good.
Another I see animated…black, terra-cotta reds. Such amazing imagery!
I had chills..it is beyond–beyond. your words give rise to some much feeling.
Every word rings true and well! Love the hope at the end.
Jim, this poem blew me to another place, like a storm blows a blossom to the next county, a branch to the stream a mile away, pollen to my party. I felt like I had been pollinated by a honey bee. The ending is beautiful and gave me so much hope the soil will remember me too, for all the blood and sweat I have shared with her.