A new poem, no where near complete. My mother died last year, and I’ve struggled to find a way to write about my feelings of loss and grief, to express my loss, and I just have not been able to. In fact, as far as writing goes, it’s been so quiet, or I feel too tired, or cliche– I’m stunted.
About a month or two after her death (which was an unexpected and sudden death) I had one of my very few dreams about her, and in this dream I woke up with the words: “black dawn she is silent now”.
I wanted to do something with these words; after all they came from my deepest consciousness. They were given to me like a gift, like a message, but more like a code that I have lost the ability to decipher. Today, was the first day that I made something, anything from those words. And, something, anything that can even chip at the surface of my grief is something to me. It’s not a completed poem, the same as any poem that is published here, but at this point to put anything on paper, and then to transfer it to here is an accomplishment for me. So as it is, it is untitled.
Black dawn
minutes before,
the cock crows is
blue luminous light, a blink
a slit, below the horizon line
of earth as far as
we can see
from our own perspective
but, our eyes are closed.
We are all sleeping
except for the ghosts
who watch us
wishing they could hold us
still.
I see her in my dreams
rarely,
As I rise from my living death
she returns to her death,
real death,
mother—
languid, somnolent, cries:
don’t leave me.
She is silent now,
and I’m awake.
A Chatoyant Fleck 