Saturday, March 10, 2012

Traces.



What came before us, will be here after us, 
dust mingling with dust, across oceans, 
all  energy of the universe,
all grains of sand, 
kicking up other grains.

Why do I still feel  a longing 
that burns my entrails
after all these months?

 Will a hint of recognition, a face in the crowd
that looks like his face
satisfy my longing?

Will a monument?

Tears continue to
etch my face. 

The universe can wait, they write. The universe doesn't need your dust.




Posted by at
Labels:

12 comments:

  1. Rosaria WilliamsMarch 10, 2012 at 8:57 AM

    In case you were wondering how I was doing. Yes, we cope. Yes, we go about doing things, learning new skills, looking for distractions, cleaning and cooking and tending the garden.

    But the air we breathe, is full of These dust particles.

    Who we are has changed.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sally WesselyMarch 10, 2012 at 9:01 AM

    Yes, Rosaria, who we are has changed. This poem is evokes so many knowing emotions in me. Some days the dust particles are just there, fleeting by in the air. Other days, they choke us. I understand. Hugs.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Rosaria WilliamsMarch 10, 2012 at 9:15 AM

    Thanks, Sally!

    ReplyDelete
  4. HelenMarch 10, 2012 at 10:05 AM

    As long as you are able to express emotions like these, we know you will survive. Yes ~ sad, empty, changed. But here for the rest of us.

    ReplyDelete
  5. The BroadMarch 10, 2012 at 10:31 AM

    Thank you for telling us how you are doing. We so want to be here for you -- in some way to comfort you. Your poem is very moving and very beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  6. KathyMarch 10, 2012 at 10:45 AM

    Loss cannot help but change us, Rosaria, and you express this so poignantly in your poem. Thank you for sharing your feelings with your friends.

    ReplyDelete
  7. erinMarch 10, 2012 at 6:15 PM

    i have no answer. all that i have is a space that opens up in my throat. (you write your grief beautifully.)

    can i say? and by no means do i mean to diminish the pain but instead recognize what you first gained and then lost, (and then gained, too, in a new and different way) the changed person that you are is beautiful. the question remains, why is pain required to polish us common sorts more beautiful?

    xo
    erin

    xo
    erin

    ReplyDelete
  8. ellen abbottMarch 11, 2012 at 7:29 AM

    An empty space that can never be filled. I guess eventually we get used to it.

    ReplyDelete
  9. musicwithinyouMarch 11, 2012 at 6:20 PM

    We try to move forward but sometimes we find ourselves taking a step back. This poem has me feeling your pain.

    ReplyDelete
  10. dsMarch 12, 2012 at 6:38 PM

    No. And...yes. And...what erin said.
    Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Amanda SummerMarch 12, 2012 at 10:39 PM

    some time ago, i can't remember where, i read that pain carves cathedrals inside of us.....

    your words are exquisite, rosaria.

    ReplyDelete
  12. LindyLouMacMarch 14, 2012 at 6:21 AM

    I feel so sad for you Rosaria reading this eloquent poem.

    ReplyDelete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)