“But I always think that the best way to know God is to love many things.”
~ Vincent van Gogh

Saturday, January 12, 2013

Signs


The face in the mirror, caught, shocks. 
The chin has become truncated, the cheeks hollow, 
the small, staring eyes old.

It has changed overnight, the very shape 
altered by deep new grooves 
running down from the corners of the mouth. 

'You're doing so well!' friends tell me.
Here is the sudden evidence otherwise: 
private sorrow gouging visible tracks.

Already I don't look like me any more, 
the me that he would recognise and remember. 
This thought starts new tears. 

I remind myself he will know me by my essence, 
my energy. The strange little face — alien, unknown —
gazes back at me out of the mirror, blankly.

10 comments:

  1. Great poem about the effects of grief - 'private sorrow gouging visible tracks' is a great line. So heartfelt.

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  2. Rosemary;

    You are such a beautiful woman, your spirit so powerful that you will be known by him and by all that you have touched.

    I am glad that I know you what little I do.

    With love,
    Delaina

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    1. I appreciate knowing you too! Thank you for this loving comment.

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  3. I think maybe people who go through grief experience the same thing when they look in the mirror.

    But look beyond the mirror. Inside you have strength. And you are beautiful.

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    1. Dear Linda, I expect you are right. I seem to recall writing something along similar lines during a much earlier grief. Thank you for bringing a smile to my face!

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  4. Oh, I understand it more now, Rosemary. I am so very sorry for your loss and your deep grief. You most certainly will be recognized when the time comes you are reunited...don't worry.
    Love,
    Gayle

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    1. Thank you for this. And thank you too for your first comment on facebook, which had me come back and make this a better poem.

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  5. Rosemary, This poem touches me deeply. How can you not be transformed? However, through your poetry, I've come to know a strong, insightful woman who doesn't shrink from recognizing what's there. Our loss is written on us in one way or another. However, the beauty of your spirit seems intact.

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    1. Bless you, Barb! I'm so glad we have come to know each other via our writings.

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