What happens when the body doesn’t die?
The soul just didn’t have the will to stick around anymore.
It turned into a shell,
Waiting to be exalted…
Absolved.
What would be her life?
Without the chapter about you.
What did she say?
If I had the strength to stand,
I’d hold you one more time.
Sit for hours, wrapped around each other, speaking…
With looks.
Kiss your face for old time sake.
Since this shell is all that remains of me.
A body, you knew…better than anyone.
You choose to make your bed next to me.
Whispering memories to vacant eyes.
Hoping to catch a glimpse of me hiding in there,
Somewhere…
Making it clear that if I leave,
You’re coming after me.
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
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This is a poem of confused emotions and spoken well I'd like to add. From your mother...I worry sometimes being away from you.
I know you're an adult now...let the past die. What's over is often times another door to possibilities and greater wealth for the heart.
"You'll never make home plate with your foot still on third base. "( Something your grandfather told me once.)
Fly!
Love,
Mom