The Rising
Do not tell me it is OK to leave.
Do not absolve me of my obligation,
Connection to this life.
Tell me to consider the best of times.
Our daughters dancing in the tidal pools of
Saint Augustine sunset.
The sparrow at Monument Valley.
I thought it was The ghost of my brother (maybe)
Come to forgive me.
I wish to savor and linger,
Tarry in a meandering way,
A stream clinging to the earth
As it wanders through the carven rock of its bed
Always down, down, down,
To the unfathomable sea.
I hold tight to what I love and cherish.
I think of your hair
Golden silk laughing in the sun.
I think of our children so busy with their youth,
The beginnings really are the best.
I think of the arc of the
Glooming sunrise morning.
It is then I think of all that has been given
To me unasked for and I am glad.
So do not give me freedom to leave.
Do not comfort me with goodbyes.
Bear the burden of my life
While my strength wanes and falters.
Tell me you love me
And will hold to me
Until I depart of my own
Until I am lost entirely to myself
And float on the wind like
Gray ashen smoke rising from the last
Dying
Embers
Of
Holy
Incense.
6 thoughts on "The Rising"
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This hurts and heals at once, Christopher.
It could be a song…
I remember my father when he was in hospice, near the end, unconscious, and everyone was telling him it’s OK to leave, don’t worry about us and trying to comfort him with comments about leaving and how you should go to God and later I had the awful thought of him feeling abandoned, pushed out the door so to speak. Of course that wasn’t the case, there were many kind words and I love yous, but I thought about what I would like to hear, the steadfastness of love and kindness would be perhaps would make the journey easier.
achingly beautiful
Thank you!
This is hauntingly beautiful ♥️
Thank you for the kind words