into the bosom of warmth might I curl up drawn in like a new born fern leaf, sleep gently in that calm sea amniotic womb echo heartbeat in tune, for a time- escape the looming specter, floating- drifting in the dreamspace before rebirth, may I forget the world, for a time, inevitability to deliver me again into the world fraught fraught with perils from the separation into a single core vulnerable as one separate from the mother, for a time until I return to her once more.
Notes… I often think of the end of life and what may happen (or not), I imagine making a bargain for reincarnation but I can not have my current conscience… sometimes I take solace in that nothing (matter) is really created or destroyed, there is a finite amount (which contains me), and other times I find comfort in knowing I DID (and you) exist, for I surely am, and my final fantasy has my soul released into the universe (or a parallel one) for we are electric beings at some level… maybe that lives on… This is something on my mind often, the unsolvable question, but I must admit, since my father has passed, I have had some calm, I feel like I can still speak to him, and he hears me, and I know the answers but feel his hand guiding me. I can not explain it rationally but I feel it. So the logic side of me shuns but the emotional tugs… and so it doesn’t matter in the end, but I grapple with it anyway…. your thoughts and comments are always appreciated my friends.
in the presence of the sons in the presence of the brothers a long witness, my mother a wife for five half score and two; all of us here, under the all-mighty eye of g-d to return this vessel these building blocks into the earth herself for today – I buried my father.
I did not inter love, nor thoughts nor a lifetime of memories – for even death, can not purge those safe, in the deepest corridors of our hearts
those standing, those left those knowing for a piece of him resides within you all, now rejoice in this, take solace in this in time you will know this to be a guiding lantern to purge any darkness
so I wish him farewell, for now until we will meet again in some other place a dimension we do not quite yet comprehend of this I am certain a calm of peace has settled in within these thoughts
goodbye, my father, for I will see you again and thank you for the gifts you left for me the ones you taught, in imperfection in perfect humanity I say goodbye to you, my father with love – your son, always- your son.
notes… this post is one of my toughest on a personal level (obviously), I thought about not posting it, but this is what hit me @ 4am this morning, I rolled out of my non sleeping bed and wrote these words, before the funeral, the nervous energy I had was overwhelming, or was it dread? I do not know, I have not lost someone so close to me, as I have said in the past I have been lucky to be so untouched by the craven hand of death, but not so, and I knew it was coming at some point… but nothing prepares you for the reality, the customs, the going through, the physical steps to the grave site, the hole, a literal hole with a casket, the dirt in a dominant pile, the cold grip of it all, as if this was a fantasy burial, the sky was mostly blue, there was a cold wind, we were in woodbridge nj but might as well have been in the middle of anywhere, vast and wind swept, I could not speak, I thought it would take forever but as over too soon, but there is nothing you can do, except release and accept helplessness, and just turn back to those you love…
I now have become one of those stories, you don’t expect it, maybe you do, I did not after all these months, but things happen, life really does just happen sometimes, suddenly, you know this, you prepare for this, but steering a ship in the middle of a sudden tempest is the only way you understand this experience fully, a knot, a grinding stone in my bowels, waiting for the call, all life ends, but when you make that decision, I can not fully explain the feeling yet… I have often said, and it is very true, my life has been relatively free of tragedy and death, there is no rhyme or reason for this, no cruel hand, no benevolent marker, just the luck of the draw, incredible luck, as billions of years of the universe have led to this moment, or moments, sitting here, sitting still but still pacing, having a glass of bourbon to calm my nerves, heart still racing still, a not so routine hospital visit a few weeks ago that might have worked out fine, upended by the virus which has diverted the cart from the road to wellness, I have been anticipating my parent’s generation to start falling for some time, and some have here and there, and now my personal story becomes part of the fabric of this pandemic, I was never blasé about the virus, I always looked @ the numbers with logic, the vast majority of those infected survive but the vulnerable populations are just that, vulnerable, and even here as we embark on the gateway of a vaccine – it seems that much more cruel, but a virus has no eyes or a heart, I am lucky that I was able to make a last visit and let my father ‘face time good bye’ many close relatives, so, I know, many people did not have that chance, I am thankful for that, and now, I try to astral project myself into the hospital room now, as I sit here not sleeping, in my mind, I am sitting next to him, holding his hand and letting him know I am there, “dad, I’m here”, I see this so clearly, all the details of the room and the warmth of his hand, somehow hoping the universe will carry my message to his mind’s ear – somehow, is this prayer? I suppose, in my own way, so, now, we wait, for the inevitable full end, the one we signed off for just hours ago, waiting for the call, waiting for the call, late into this night, isolated from all those we love, leaving a loved one isolated to leave this world alone, waiting for the call.
I do not write this for your sympathy (I appreciate your decency, thank you, I do but that is not the purpose of this piece), more for those who may be or have experienced the same. This has been a trying day, making decisions and the speed they are implemented is dizzying, more life altering scenes happened in a smattering of mere hours than I can even digest now, so I had to write it out, at least what I can handle @ this hour. I would like to send a personal thanks to the staff @ JFK Hospital in Edison NJ.
and I never heard his voice this way from a mountain, yet- weak, trembling and reaching “I am going, I am going, david” I conversed with normalcy in the situation for what do you do who is prepared for these times even though we all come to these times and prepare for them, we come to them
on this eve; I will remember the quiet cold a throbbing silence in the night I go about routine a lone goose in the far starry distance I think I can actually see the sad lonely bird across and I hear a sad lonely honk not sure if this is the last migrant flowing south across this december new jersey sky one more time for all the wrappings all the human might I am helpless a babe, once again, I am reduced
I wanted to tell him more to make him want to come back to spend one more afternoon on the deck soaking in the sun like some ancient aztec god as if the sun was beaming only for him maybe it was and I long for him to have one more time in that glory of the sun with no pain, no worry just a mere moment of simple life one more time just for him, as much as for me to say good bye, not like this, on this call family walled off in cells deprived of touch I have no cause to petition the lord I have no cause greater than any I have nothing to barter, nothing to trade but for love from whom that from which I was raised a model of imperfection which is the beauty of humanity for in that imperfection we find eternity – in love for those – our family.
notes… regardless of the vehicle, death comes, so what then, for the living, I still smile, because the universe has taught me to be alive, so be alive – and love – the greatest of these is love…
how subtly we move down the long table, a feast with our family, different times of the year feel the same in here, time is somewhere peering in with jealous eyes. knowing at some point we will venture outside again, once small children (so I recall) are now here at the main table as adults grown up, their kids at the small one or running around, the parade of cousins, aunts, uncles and those married in moves on, the table has swelled all these years, I always knew, but never saw the subtraction coming as I do now, this soon, expected at some point, sure, but never on my side, in my direct row of chairs, a reckoning, for this is the way life is, I suppose we all hold onto untouchable belief, even in the sheer face of the inevitability, the reality, maybe we are fools but I would rather side on the side of belief against all and embrace that fool of myself, for what else can we do, pass the potatoes down and share a drink or two, a sliding moment of smiles, a flash of stories brought out like seasonal accouterments, as the actuality of the tales seem, and are, further off in the distance, for perhaps this is the time of my reckoning, at least as I slide chairs, as the elders inevitably become phantoms, one by one, some by some, so, all the more – stop and enjoy the spectacle, the pageant, the miracle, the banquet of life while the fruit is ripe, the buffet is vast and the glasses full, a moment to take in, as I approach the land of reckoning, not for myself, just yet, but I see, and feel, the coming of the sunset for the generation I am replacing in line next as I move toward the end of the table, may I carry such yoke with dignity and humanity – and love.
in the background “I wish you were here” is playing, somewhat muted from the other room, but such an easy sentiment, so true, and I do, looking out the sliding glass window door at a fall, well, the fall has happened, just the outlines, the bare bones of trees now, with giant lollipop tufts of leaves that the squirrels have devised and deployed as housing, not much camouflage now, not needed I guess, my the little buggers have grown quite fat, nearly falling off the limbs like overmatched wallendas, not the daring darters and dashers of just a few months past, a hawk is circling high above, but they pay no mind, I half expect to see a scene out of one of those wildlife documentaries, but nothing happens, just a feeling of stillness as I watch the outside world move about, a stiff breeze bends my bamboo halfway down, puddles have gathered where they decided to form a crowd, standing alone in the house, the colors are not dreary, just certainly not bright, every shade of brown imaginable, and wet bark, tends to be blackish, every once in a while there is a flash of bright color, a cardinal, or a bluejay will swoop in and steal my eye, but mostly the monotony of brown, I hear no sounds of the outside, just the song, and my mind…
“How I wish, how I wish you were here We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl year after year Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears, wish you were here”
I feel time flowing around me, like a standing ‘henge rock in a river, for at least a respite, before I am swept with the rest of it, I’m not sad, no, more of just empty, or deprived of what I once had, no blame, no anger, none of that matters now, never did but stole those moments anyway back then, those days, not today, for I am in the here now, regardless of good fate or bad, there is no turning back, just this pause, as I try to lose myself in the minutia of squirrels in their world, in my backyard, mine, at least for a time, a lifetime just a stitch in this quilt, if that much, deep breath the experience in, fading into my own pale reflection in the glass now, staring, at myself, no, through myself, no doubt, I am the sum of what stands here, maybe I won the argument, maybe I stood by principle, maybe I was right, maybe I was wrong, that has all washed away now, inside these bones the truth takes hold.
“So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell? Blue skies from pain? Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell? Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts? Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze? Cold comfort for change? Did you exchange A walk-on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?”
-fin, fade to gray
notes… the quotes are obviously from the Pink Floyd tune above… do I need to even say that? perhaps…. I don’t want to be accused of stealing things, those words are surely not mine, part of my post, and the inspiration, that they are.
often, ok, probably nightly I like to put on ocean sounds, not as good as the real thing but I not quite gotten to the point where I can afford an on the beach locale of my own for escape, so I take the next best thing, youtube that is, why the sea is a lullaby for me is a mystery, but it is, and I am not alone apparently if I look at clicks and hits, sorry, “views” in the youtube vernacular, so my mind was drifting, listening to a true recording translated into a faux ocean tide…
Photo by Pok Rie on Pexels.com
…and I began to think of my hands, inside, trying to see the actual cells connected, to realize everything to scale, how I am truly a sum of parts, miniscule bits, all working as one, might I rival an ant farm, but hopefully not sitting on someone’s dresser for amusement or curiosity, to contemplate that there is actually space in between everything even our skin, although we do not perceive it, at some level it would be like looking at the solar system and-or our galaxy, so much space in between bodies and stars depending on from where you are observing, things are passing through me right now, yet I don’t feel violated, I wonder if I could ever perceive the situation or did we not develop this unneeded sensation for survival, I imagine the intersections, the traffic controls of flow, the plethora of little car wrecks that must go on in the millions, all the while I might be doing something utterly useless like playing a game on my phone, as the mini universe inside my hands explodes with activity, a boiling cauldron of possibility oddly – out of reach but certainly there, and then I think of the future, or the past, really the same in this case, one day the great tide of god will break me down to just molecules, and I will just become part of the shore once more, sand scattered on a line or in a form, until such time as I am gathered up again by the will of the same, my unique consciousness summoned again, the trillions of combinations that came before, all tallied up into this particular form, and soon, way sooner than I may like, broken back down to transform into other life as life will go on – without me.
for I am forced to observe my future, my fortune unfold, to post age-ed vessel in rush grey and white all colors have faded the exodus of light as the source grows dimmer a once blazing beacon now meagerly flickers cracks, wrinkles, crooked bent words repeated, forgotten, thoughts at a loss. to the memory of my dear mother or what is left I dare not to grasp too hard to break what remains to ash and yet a memory is all I will soon there have
with love, and thank you mom, your son.
notes… this was totally and utterly inspired by this post @ another blog, it was instant, it was done, it made sense, and also cut like a gun. age is a wonderful thing, time is a bastard robbing everything, do not confuse them as twins, understand them as best you can…
might I be aware and enjoy the warm rays bright bouquets against the seas one more time upon the waves that carry my soul away to some other place I hope to some other place I pray
notes… maybe my first “prayer” poem that I wrote since I started writing again (ahem, this blog)… this is actually from april (looking through some of my now old stuff), kind of sums up the vibe I am going for at times, waves, and things repeating because life is like that in so many ways…
what if…you could meet god (in whatever fashion, design, form or belief you believe in), and could make a deal where every time your physical body dies you would be reincarnated as another sentient humanoid (or close thereof) being – therefore never truly dying forever, the catch? you will have no memory of the previous being but you will persist, in some form, forever, on various planets (in the sheer vastness of this universe – or perhaps another) or wherever this god creation cares to place you on. So, in a sense you guaranty your survival, but you lose this, this you, your individuality and awareness. Do you make the deal ? or maybe you have made it already… Is losing your individual nature, this collection of things (experience mixed with your time), is this just death dressed up in just another coat ?
I must admit I find myself pondering my mortality probably more than I should, I mean, after all it is life’s most vexing question is it not? I have not found a sufficient solution in the house of religion, and frankly religion is certainly created by man, most surely fallible but not guaranteed wrong (if religion works for you, awesome, I have absolutely no problem with that, and perhaps I might be jealous of your relief/belief at the end of the day), I am certainly not an atheist but the possibility that we are just a random creation from a pool of physical laws, unfortunately, I can not dismiss that entirely, I just don’t know, I do not have the answers, and I doubt I might ever find one satisfactory (although I must admit I hope I am wrong on that count). E=mc^2 I must say this always felt like a glimmer of hope for me, a scientific raft in the sea of the unknown as it were, The Law of the Conservation of Mass, so therefore I will never disappear fully in that sense, if that makes sense, there will always be a part of the universe that is me, but will it be ‘me’? it is a bit daunting to ponder but if one of the basic laws of physics is a start on this path maybe I can approach god and broker a deal for some reincarnation… just what type is where the bargaining might have to begin… but if there truly is a god (and I hope there is), god will already know my price forthwith, and outwit me in such negotiations.
Shades of My Garden 