and what of you when she went away
when she slipped from view that cold dark day
did a part of her remain perchance
remnant of your swirling shadow dance
and what of you when she came back not
when she slipped from you in a loose lover’s knot
did a piece of her lodge in your heart
remnant of your mind’s work of art
and what of you now since she’s been gone
when with her she took your brilliant dawn
and what of her since she slipped from sight
when with you she left her beloved night
and what of her since she went away
when from you she left ‘fore judgment day
and what of you
and what of her
now
now
that she’s
gone
and
you're
both
all
alone
what of you
what of her
.
.
.
8 comments:
i often wonder how you keep all these fires going, my dear... :)
i was reading this and as i read your words, i often think of whom you talking about, is there a person to identify with, one human being of which you write...and always i am left without the answer as if the perpetual riddle must go on... these are so beautifully put,these thoughts of her and whomever the other... xx
Oh Gyps. You speak from my heart, too, you know. Your words my words our words always speaking in one voice and not always knowing which is yours and which is mine because they are One Voice Together. Are we just cousins, or are we twins separated by the spinning sea of Time? I read the entries in my private intimate journal and read your words Unspoken, and they are the same. Will we ever recover, do you think, from the yearning, from the wanting for them for him? I won't. Will that empty chair with its oh so poignant message ever be filled again? Not for me not for you. We just keep on keeping on, remembering. Do they think of us, I wonder? Do THEY remember? No answer.......
oh, lovelylinda, it is the magic of the fires that keep ME going! not the other way around! truly! ;)
of your wondering, the answer is simple - yes - there is a person - a single person to whom about whom these words are written - someone from whom i chose to walk away - who, without him, my heart weeps a bit each day - but someone who, in our abbreviated time, gave more, was more, cared more than any other - but it was/is not our time - this life - and so, this blog was created - dedicated to all the words left unspoken, the acts left undone - the love unlived unfulfilled -
and there, my dear friend, you have the rest of the story....
;)
twins separated by the spinning tides of time, i think, cousin - could it be anything else? this voice of ONE?
and again you say it all - all that i could say - and yes, but of course, THEY remember - how could they not! as they are remembered, so, too, do they remember! that is how it is with such love - that is how it is! ;)
it is always so wonderful to have you come by and leave a few words, cj - thank you, dear cousin!
I cannot really comment that poem for once, sweet Jenean. I cannot because of that other woman who played with my son for ten years, as if he were a fish, and almost killed him.
May she burn in hell forever if there is a hell.
The Father In Me
Just beautiful. Send some of those fires my way!
my dear roger - it is alright - the mother in me totally understands - truly - take care and come back soon -
oh, trish! sending fires now.......
;)
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