Image

hereafter

 

i know not the lengths of this journey as time now ticks ghostly so,

unbeknownst to me,

it coils it’s precious and vile tocks within the ruptures of my brokenness

my tumultuous cries rise

as i dance in this mirage of a storm

watch me glare into nothing

as the ticks and the tocks busy themselves narrating my life before me

in this my nirvana i tread

to bleed, to smile, to weep, to laugh, to burn

coming out of the fog

to find my breath again

 

I know this may seem like a dark piece, however, when I wrote this it was from the inspiration that fell upon me at the site of this breathtaking piece of funerary art that rests upon the grounds of Rock Creek Cemetery in Washington DC (just across the street from the nationally known Arlington Cemetery).

Upon returning home and reading the story of its creation, I knew I had to write about her. I’m including a link to its creation below. The piece of artwork itself is titled The Mystery of the Hereafter, although over the years it has been given the name of “grief” by those admiring its craftsmanship and perceived meaning.

Upon reading its history, I did find myself on the journey that one takes through grief, to that hereafter. It is different for us all, yet it is all very much the same (which lends to the male/female fusion the artist depicts with this piece) It hasn’t a map, it hasn’t a clock, nor does it have a definitive destination. We struggle, we grieve, all of us. Yet we survive. Often, we come out on the other side with a knowing, a new sense of strength, of purpose, of courage. Grief, that delicate five letter word, has the power of change, of acceptance, of growth.

Without ruining the story behind its creation for you, the romantic in me very much came alive as well. A breathtaking moment and an honor to be able to tip-toe into the life of two souls now since departed.

Thank you for taking a moment to read this piece. If you find a fondness for funerary art as I do, you can find more of my images in my gallery here.

 

images of “Grief” taken from Rock Creek Cemetery in Washington DC. Sculpture created by Augustus Saint-Gaudens and listed on National Register of Historic Places. To read more about its elusive history read on…

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adams_Memorial_(Saint-Gaudens)

*featured image taken on a foggy morning walking the grounds of Belle Grove Plantation, birthplace of President James Madison.

-just breathe-

~holiday~

let us take holiday on the moon 

whilst the sun serenades eyes heavy 

floating to a magician’s tune 

won’t you build me a swing 

slowly sing to me 

that song you like to sing 

for then we shall fly 

collecting constellations 

barefoot in a night sky 

whisper sweetly like you do 

as the stars giggle 

when my cheeks change hue 

let us take holiday on the moon 

with no thoughts 

of ever returning soon 

These Stones: a poem

i let myself fade to you
knowing the anchor is not through

it presses upon my hollow chest
no will to fight or protest

it dares me not to cry
as I push back the ache with an empty sigh

my head swirls, words circling, once again falling prey
as the rapture returns with its needful intent to slay

haunted by my own thoughts and the words you slur
from frustration and stubborn pride we both continually stir

resentment and desire to throw it all away, gives us constant whiplash this thing we promised
never to betray

what lies beneath us, the darkness that makes you and I
has always been our savior, never to stray away from or lie

yet we are challenged it seems every day
to embrace what we have, instead slipping further and further away.

i know not what rests in your head
if you’ve willed it away or wished it dead

as for me I cannot explain this bond refusing to break
perhaps fate found me you to cure this ache

or maybe a stepping stone for my soul to mend
from the torture I’ve caused it, unsure how to bend

or perhaps I to you to show you the way
beyond the path you thought you’d stay

or maybe the tool to purge a mind
from all that baggage trailing behind.

so when i let myself numb the world and think of you
the first thought I have is were your words true

from all that we’ve shared
it was always obvious to me just how much we cared

but it’s hard for me to accept that we have failed
after chartering waters neither of us have sailed.

how can we just let it all go after having the courage to let the most darkest pieces of ourselves
show?

emotions can be such a powerful drug
that can force us to push feelings under a rug

or cause us to act in disarray
react or say things we don’t mean to say.

insecurities own us, blind us to what’s really there
prisoners to our minds, stripping us bare.

i know this thing I feel is something all together new.
it’s that thing inside that keeps pulling me to you.

there it is the world, coming back into view
i push my thoughts away again, as I repeatedly do.