FOR KYLA, 1986 - 1993

Full story below. 11 22 13

Today I remember the poet

who wrote a bridge across

the human life span

not by reminding us

of the winged vehicles 

that commute us from

body to soul

but of how a birth marked

the commemoration

of the construction of those

very wings

Today I remember

an ancient belief that

a mother's delivery

was a contract with 

a higher power

a child's stepping out from

the residence of heaven

for a mission defined

in a visit to we whose infant

remembrances are annulled

by the cruelty of time

spent on adulthood

Today I remember why angels

are thought to be born in sync

with our children to make

transcendent twins of us all

I remember the theory

I've harboured believing

my cousin was meant to maintain

her wings on the basis of a

different kind of mission

Today I remember

the subsequent line-up of brethren

bidding us farewell sooner than hoped

in such swift order that mourning

began to feel like a line

of dominoes

I believe she reminds me today

of how the truest dominoes

never lie flat in their fall

but are propped up by those

who rally around their fate

like dream-stuffed pillows

I believe she was granted

unseen wings for her life

to facilitate a visit just long enough

to ensure us of one who awaits

us when the line quivers

and encloses us with revived

fears of lost family

She was born a beacon of

hope in a storm of despair

An angel allowed to retain 

her human vessel for a family 

huddled in the overworked

threads of mortality

Author's Note

My cousin was born on November 22 1986 and was dignosed with neuroblastoma. After a long fight she passed away December 14 1993 at the age of 7.

I seldom get too spiritual in my writing, but the circumstances of the day demanded I bear it for all to see. The poem itself is a rush job, and maybe I'll go back to it later to make it more eloquent, but in light of those circumstances, it naturally had to be done today. I was also writing this with my Dad in mind, who passed away last year and always had a soft spot for her. He was one in a line of several relatives we have lost due to various illnesses in the last two-three years in rapid succession. In a nutshell, it feels like there has been a funeral every month for the last two years. But this is not a declaration of pure sadness...it is more about remembering the positives, so no need to worry...I'm okay :)

"The poet" I refer to is Coleridge, who believed that babies arrived via heaven through their birth. To this day, the lion's share of angel-related testimonials come from young children. Whether or not one puts any stock in that is up to the individual, but kids are a heck of a lot more perceptive now than they've been in past generations, and you know what they say about strength in numbers...

Reviews

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

I did my senior thesis on Coleridge...one of my favorite poets--there was so much emotion hidden between his lines. This was emotional, my friend, and I felt it quite deeply in the reading. I had to read three times before I was satisfied that I had taken everything in. I imagine tears on the page with this one...tears and vulnerability that show your brevity. Much respect for you.

[kublakhan27]

I do recall you mentioning your thesis way back when we first started talking regularly. The older I get, the more convinced I become that he is my favourite poet, though there are a handful or so whose work I hold close to my heart. I never did do a thesis, and I regret it deeply to this day. I had profs who suggested I do one, but I just didn't have enough confidence at the time. In fact, this is the only place I find confidence and I don't know how I managed to even write so long as I did before I arrived here. But this is another story. I guess I mention it here just to demonstrate how grateful I am for your support. There were no shortage of tears in the process of writing this piece, and I'm glad that I was able to convey the litany of emotions I was feeling at the time. You know that I respect you greatly as well my friend, thank you.

[Pryde Foltz]

She was born a beacon of
hope in a storm of despair
An angel allowed to retain
her human vessel for a family
huddled in the overworked
threads of mortality

I think the poem stands very well as it, Steve. Such a deep and touching write. Just beautiful. Just beautiful.

[kublakhan27]

Thank you so much Pryde, I'm very glad that you liked this one.

[Angi]

Oh Steve. This is such a heartbreakingly beautiful piece. The lines about mothers wombs being portals directly from heaven is amazing. Your cousin was and is loved so much. I could feel it in your words. You are a poet. You are. The way you weave words is something I just couldn't do. She is up there with your dad and they are smiling down on you, I just know it! Angi~

[kublakhan27]

Thank you my dear friend, so much. As I've mentioned in the comments below, a rough day has been made easier by the support of those who have got me through some pretty tumultuous times (which have yet to end) since I first came to this site. You have always been among my biggest supporters, and that means more than I can put into words. And remember, we all see elements in the poetry of others that we wish we could emulate ourselves ;) Thank you again for your kind words Angi :)

[icelandicblue]

Oh my god this was exquisitely sad and beautiful. I am touched deeply by your words, emotions and images. You make me believe through this poem that there is a purpose to it all.

I believe she reminds me today
of how the truest dominoes
never lie flat in their fall
but are propped up by those
who rally around their fate
like dream-stuffed pillows

[kublakhan27]

Thanks so much my friend, I'm truly humbled by your kind words here. I can't tell you how much it means to be able to generate such feelings with this piece. It hasn't been the best of days, but the support I've received has made the process of writing this piece feel worthwhile.

[Rita L. Sev]

This is a beautifully written tribute, as well as a declaration of your family's strength.

I believe she reminds me today
of how the truest dominoes
never lie flat in their fall
but are propped up by those
who rally around their fate...

I love this metaphor; your note provides the backstory, but the poem stands as a sentimental triumph of a life, however brief... beautiful, my friend.

[kublakhan27]

Thanks so much my friend. It means the world to know that such a personal piece spoke to you :)

[Sheila Kline]

Already a favorite - have read and am so touched by it that I must return later and finish this review which I shall. I lost a son at age 16 and can relate to so much of what flows from your heart - so glad you wrote this TODAY as it is the proper day!!
Later, with love!!!!!!!!!

[kublakhan27]

I'm so sorry to hear of your son Sheila :( We must look for small blessings wherever they can be found, and our poet's sense of the world around us is the best avenue available to us in times of remembrance. We are here for each other always :)