Remembering

I spoke of you today

of your passion

for spiritual discovery

Your spark

and your light

that was my sun.

I spoke of you

with intensity

and without tears

A red-letter moment.

And it is only now

in the re-telling and remembering

that the tears prick

and my swollen heart admits

the anomaly.

BL 2/9/12

The end of this month marks five years since my Dad went on to be wherever He Be.

It is the first year that this month has not been cold and lonely, though I still have my moments...

And while I am happy to speak of him and keep my composure, there is a part of me that will almost miss the wild abandon of fresh grief. For in the freshness is a closeness, as though the walls are torn down and the one we miss quite possibly stands watching. Here be dragons screams the voice of self-preservation, and yet stirring that pain like newly-turned earth can become a lifelong hobby. Here's to planting seeds in that earth.