I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

This blog is not, 'Here are my very best poems'. It's for work in progress, subject to revision.
Posts may be updated without notice at any time. Completed work appears in my books.

1 August 2010

This Sunday

I sat in the sun with my friends
late afternoon, eating Tim Tams
after the Reiki class and the photos,
listening to Brad read poems —
warm, and reluctant to move.

This day was sacred to Brigid
Goddess of healing and poetry;
it was also National Tree Day
and all the way there we kept admiring
the tall trees along the road.

Our friends’ pet bird died this morning;
they were sad when we arrived
and will weep once more now we’ve gone.
Sometimes death is the ultimate healer
but we do not like to think so.

And yet today was a happy day
of laughter as well as tears,
a day of feasting and music
as these new friendships deepened.
All we love dies, and lives.


8 Days of Happiness: 8 / Six Sentences

2 comments:

  1. fabulous day.

    yes, all we love lives and some loved by many outlast us all.

    ReplyDelete