MAYBE SOMEHOW.

THE GRIEF OF A FATHER FOR HIS SON'S DEATH AND HOPES.

An enormous

tragedy of grief

sits on

the old man's

bent shoulders

his young son's

sudden demise

is always before

his weary eyes

it rises up

before him

with the dreary dawn

greets him

in the ticking

slow hours

of the dull day

(grief is like that

they say)

then sits with him

until the night owl

hoots him

to uneasy sleep

(his son's soul

to keep)

each time

he sits

to write

his worn words

his son watches

over

his bent shoulder

(or so he wishes

or hopes)

seeing his father's

fingers press

the keys

to conjure words

to soothe

the hurt

(they fail

but help

in one

untidy mess)

and maybe

his son's

ghostly hand

will touch

the shoulder's

ache of grief

(bringing in

the old man's

aged belief)

and maybe more

his whispered words

(with hint

of Mutley laugh

for sure)

to cheer or lift

his father's lowly

spirit high

saying although

the body's dead

the spirit's here

it does not die

and although

an enormous tragedy

of grief sits

on the old mans'

bent shoulders

it seems to sits

less heavy now

(although

deep hurting still)

somehow.

Reviews

[Penlady]

This is the first in many I know you will write , which expresses the yearning for the lifting of the load, and in it is seen the realization that Ole WILL lift you from this deep grief, as you remember and feel ever clearer his loving touch....

[Terry Collett]

Thank you, Penlady. By nature I am a positive person. Fitting this tragic death of my son into some kind of sense will take all my positive strength. Spiritually I am sure he is safe; but the sense of his loss here is the task in hand. Big Thank you.x

[Penlady]

I'm not sure the "sense," of it will ever be brought to any satisfactory position in our human ability to reason...I'm glad you have faith, I do and I don't know how anyone gets through the crisis of life without it...but the human way through grief must be taken one step at a time in order to reach the light at the end. my second husband died two years ago and I am still within that staircase of steps having ups and downs still...the death of a child is completely against what we do as humans...they are to bury us, not us them, so whatever you are feeling at any given time I, in my estimation, what you will do with it in your own time...it is a leaden balloon in your soul right now, I can feel it from you...but you have been so close to your son,,,that you are now able to converse through your poetry in telling how it would be in any instance with Ole...that is most certainly keeping him alive...more for those who read about him and THAT fact brings him a forever place in this life...I know you are a positive man...and your feelings are exactly what they should be...loss is dealt with everyday but your loss is one that has knocked you to your knees...in your writing I am already seeing the beginnings of light that in time will bring you out of this terrible darkness...you are much loved in this world as a man and as the poet's heart!