No Timetable

Time is cruel

In the way that only
Tireless, relentless things can be

Like gravity

But love resists

It knows no timetable, for
Love participates in eternity

Our minds get worn down
Our eyes fail
Our joints ache

But feelings persist

Long after the
Purblind keepers
Of timetables
Seem to think
Proper

And I’ll take love over time
Every
Loving
Time

Once, There Was A Girl

Once, there was a girl,
Who was a person, not a picture —
And anywhere she ventured to,
My heart would also go —

But time brought days, and days revealed
The cracks in our foundation:
For whether you “find out” or not,
Eventually, you know —

Like rain upon a lake,
Our passive, commonplace,
And simple failed attempt,
Has vanished, without trace,

Except —

Today I feel the ache
Begin to slowly worsen
When someone who you loved becomes

A picture,

Not a person

… and maybe nurture more

A child is born.

The end of one process and the start of another.

We then subject that child to developmental timetables and schedules that we get from books and articles.

And when the child is ahead of schedule, we note it with pride.

But if the child lags any part of the timetable, we may note that as well — with shame.

But there is no shame, because all of the timetables and schedules are just averages, and averages have no real meaning.

Each child, each person is different, unique, and the path each must take to find their way can’t be found in any book of averages.

Now understand this: grief is a newborn baby.

The end of one process and the start of another.

We then subject that grief to developmental timetables and schedules that we get from books and articles.

And when the grief is ahead of schedule, others may note it with affirmation.

But if your grief lags any part of the timetable, others will note that as well — and you may feel shame.

But there is no shame, because all of the timetables and schedules are just averages, and averages have no real meaning.

Each grief, each loss is different, unique, and the path each grieving person must take to find their way can’t be found in any book of averages.

So, respect grief as you would life. Save your timetables for the city buses. And maybe nurture more than you lecture.

Timeline

we met,
we loved,
you went away

it all came back again today —

the love
i fear
that’s meant to stay

(and i would not true love betray)

we met,
we loved,
what more to say?

like waves that roll in on the bay,

the chambers of
my future thoughts
are filled with

you & you &

 
yesterday

If She Could…

If she could flee the way she feels
She would. But that is not a choice:
She sleeps but fitful, misses meals,
And can find neither mind nor voice

To outline all the emptiness
She’s known since he’s been gone:
And all that she has left to keep
Is just keep

On