We all saw you in our dreams last night, the effect was calming
Taking the love and the light and giving it a three dimensional quality
You said to walk the path lightly, but with confidence, I didn’t hesitate
You touched the back of my head and saw the hope and created flow
Sister, where are your weary hands when the work is done
Granting so much to so many and asking nothing in return
Sister, where are your thoughts after soothing my fears
Showing the way when so many plant brambles at our feet
We all saw you in the reflection of the water in the morn, the effect was wondrous
Taking the tears and creating rivulets of love and light, satin
You said to give my heart to the depths and live vertically but with reach
You stared into my eyes and pulled out the deepest browns and translucent blues
Sister, you are the one who binds the now to the forever
Seeing the things that are but ghosts in the recesses of a diseased outlook
Sister, you are the one that ebbs and swirls, making words into wishes
Walking unseen through the hearts and minds of the ones who want to love
A wonderful write!!
ReplyDeleteI read this poem once. Then, I stood up... and read it aloud in front of the mirror. What an incredible subject, and what a delicious voice you use to celebrate her.
ReplyDeleteThis is a wonderful way to describe love.. so very real and describing the full complexity that love is (and should be)
ReplyDeleteRilke said there are three sisters at the pool, love, longing and lament -- This figure is both dream and ghost (maybe both) soror of the heart, of that knowledge we can't know with our heads. What a gift to share her with us.
ReplyDeleteThis is incredibly heart-stirring, Corey! Especially love; "You stared into my eyes and pulled out the deepest browns and translucent blues." Beautiful!❤️
ReplyDeleteBrilliant.
ReplyDeleteEach stanza offers a unique experience in itself.. together, the whole is overwhelming: sad, celebratory, loving, and endlessly mournful. One of your best.
ReplyDelete... my youngest daughter is five years older than my youngest child, a boy. Her nurturing of him is so very dear to my heart. I watch them and see such a special relationship. He is 11 now and growing up so fast. But his sister is still very much a part of his life (even though some of the nurturing has become teasing (in a good way) - he might say "torture". Ha. This poem makes me wonder if she passed away! I certainly hope not. It did bring tears to my eyes...
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