A Man Leaves Us

Some kind of graphic immortality
to grace my sight each time
an old photo appears, and he is still
to give me all he is that instant.
I may study him, and unconcerned
about excess, may send him on.

His gift is wondrous, total,
as his spirit flies to realms
I do not wish to understand--
they are his own, but just before
his flight I see him caught
in a curious spectrum, ready to change,
ready for his unknown now.

I want to take some time;
he can spare it, forth or back
and there is possibility; He is
in control, and looking even closer,
moments congregate. A newer history
may thunder down the path, a birth,
a death,  a song that may not
ever be.

 

It is late.  His rest, and mine
are close at hand; he disappears
between the album covers
as his phantom self persists
in memory.  I cannot close
that flashing moment, fast away
when I saw him hover there
upon the edge of time.
       ~

Reviews

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

But did he really leave? Once one has left an imprint, graced the world with his energy, is he ever really gone? As a raindrop that falls within the ocean, he still exists, immersed, a part of the energetic whole. I don't think that energy ever leaves us.

As always, you are masterful with your words.

[Dean]

or was he really here? If so, where?

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Absolutely, everywhere, all at once, in you, outside of you, all around you. :-)

[Dean]

aha...you were peeking

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Just ever watchful.

[DrD]

My God, Jazz -- I am stunned by the depth of your work and a sophistication I don't remember from before. This is masterful -- a classic write. Congratulations.

[Dean]

Since you have answered this poem naming not me, but Jazz, I am not sure your comment is for her by mistake, or what, but thank you.

[DrD]

Forgive me, I did err. The praise, however, is well deserved.

[Dean]

Thank you, sir.

[J. J. Nightingale]

Wow....................... ..

Sorry I do not know what to type..

They are always here, forever and all-ways ..

In the glimpses of images, and traces
between the pages of our times.......... they be.

Jazz

[Dean]

you tried--thanks!

[J. J. Nightingale]

I do understand... just can't put my thoughts in words.... You are welcome