JoyfulJen

On Thursday, 21st August, I ventured to the lake in the park; our special place, Madison's place... a yellow rose in hand, a gift to show my care and remembrance of the short, oh too short time we had.  There's nothing else I can do, but sit, reflect and let the grief, the sadness, flow.  

I see you in the weeping willow, billowing around me, 

I feel you in the gentle breeze that tickles my face, 

you’re the twinkle in the eye of the cheeky young fawn, 

you glitter in the streams that follow the swan, 

I hear you in the bird song, the chatter of the passing babes and the beating of my heart,

I touch the swaddling blanket that held your broken shape, and smell the fading imprint of your grace,

I leave you here amongst the heavenly voices, 

I carry you in my heart, my soul and in every single bone,

you’re everything and nothing, how can that be so, when

your spirit glows in the warmth of the sun, the light of the moon, and the twinkle of every star… 

*******************

‘I measure every Grief I meet with narrow, probing, eyes - I wonder if It weighs like Mine – 

Or has an Easier size.

I wonder if They bore it long – 

Or did it just begin – 

I could not tell the Date of Mine – 

It feels so old a pain – 

I wonder if it hurts to live – 

And if They have to try – 

And whether – could They choose between – 

It would not be – to die – 

I note that Some – gone patient long – 

At length, renew their smile –  

An imitation of a Light

That has so little Oil…..’

Emily Dickenson,  1830-1886