While searching

My lover is the silence of time, 

from whom is concieved 

enormity. 

I am the raging of ashes. 

You, who might have been he,  

are not here. 

 

~ Lou Rogers 

 

While searching for a couple of poems for my Aunt's memorial, I came upon one my mother wrote. My father had been many years gone when she wrote it. No one ever stepped into his place in her life. Indeed, it summarizes much about her life, and that also of a friend who died by her own hand in 2005. When there is no living human center in a life, there is sometimes in the end a simply a merciful closing of the book. For all those who stand alone in the hollow of the world, peace.

 

By Lou Rogers

Faraway

Now at this hour my Aunt's memorial is happening, faraway. I could not be there in person, but thoughts are there. She was my father's twin sister. Though she and he departed many decades apart, in a sense I feel they went hand in hand, for they both chose their deaths, and chose to die in water. A river and a lake, beautiful and loved. He was 35 years old, she was 90. There is a kind of poetic mirroring, these two so close and so far.

 

Next time I shall die
Bringing forth wings and feathers like angels;
After that, soaring higher than angels-
What you cannot imagine
I shall be that.

                             ~ Rumi

 

For those who struggle:

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”

                      ~ Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Inspired by photos coming out of Kosovo circa 1999. My first 'art doll,' who went to live in Israel.