We wonder what it’s like
Where they go, the close departed
The ones we always felt would stay.
Could never feel so far away.
Is it a black brick wall in time?
Just a stop along the circle line?
But it’s us who live like Dante’s shades
Half-removed, half-known, half-seen
The mourners hanging in between
A curtain neither pulled nor drawn
From longing night to barren day.
We haunt the hallways of our past
Spooking those who fear our breath
Walking advertisements of Death
That even the brightest colour fades,
That nothing stays, that nothing lasts.
haunting beautiful Beck thinking if u n all the adjustments u r making
Oh I can relate.
Fakir was so happy to have met you.
Love and Light and Completion
Oh dear Cleo, yes it so so difficult. Are we ever the same, I wonder? Much love to you and your dear Fakir. One of the true greats and an inspiration to so many as well as to me as I attempt to travel some of his depths. xx
I like to think of them as a child again, running and jumping in a field of long grass healthy and free with not a care in the world and the sun on their back. Beautifully emotive poem Becky! Sending love. K.
That’s very sweet, Kevin. I have more poems in me about what happened and they won’t all be so somber 🙂
I imagine that they come as you are feeling at the time, that can only be a good thing. 🙂
There’s never ever a goodbye. We will always be ❤