My blog has been noticeably quiet in the last few days. This is not by accident or happenstance but rather it has direct relation to an ominous anniversary - July 17. Last year, as I was embarking on new discoveries of self, my father transitioned from this existence and returned to AllThat Is. One never knows what the loss of a parent can feel like until it occurs; words are inadequate to describe, summarize or even hint at the gaping tear in the fabric of your personal universe. So I have found myself alternating between the impassioned turbulence of resistant emotion and the resignation of muteness. Finally, the Muse touched my brow and expression began to rain forth:
Loss
The room is quiet now
silence speaks softly
filling void in space
lone remnant of the chorus
which just a while before
echoed through the house
The bed is empty now
sheets drawn, blankets removed
pillows carefully stacked
on the floor, to the side
headboard covered in black
unused but not dust-laden
The curtains are shuttered now
thin fingers of light grasping
shadow motes which reflect absence
of daylight, shrouding room
in a casement of darkness
a seal to lock away memory
It is hard to believe
Some days past, hours gone
a living soul inhabited
these desolate quarters,
breathed noisily in vacancy,
occupied this hollow of the world
The room is quiet now
silence speaks softly
filling void in space
lone remnant of the chorus
which just a while before
echoed through the house
The bed is empty now
sheets drawn, blankets removed
pillows carefully stacked
on the floor, to the side
headboard covered in black
unused but not dust-laden
The curtains are shuttered now
thin fingers of light grasping
shadow motes which reflect absence
of daylight, shrouding room
in a casement of darkness
a seal to lock away memory
It is hard to believe
Some days past, hours gone
a living soul inhabited
these desolate quarters,
breathed noisily in vacancy,
occupied this hollow of the world
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