this was a song that lingers in caverns and
caves, scented by sea rose and anemone,
lost kingdoms where we dream of the sea.

this was a song like a whale shivering
through the water, diving into the
impossible dark, with its huge tail
waving, flag-like and star-hungry,
its skin the moon's lips, in a world
with no moonlight, no brightening pools,
and only echoes of a forgotten sun.

how deep do we dive, seals of ink
and overtures of unanswerable
dark? our eyes have been betrayed
many times and the water buries us
whole, takes us to the staccato rhythms
of a ghostly tide, takes us back to
a womb woman whose prayers lie
like whispers on the water, who tells
us to hush and we hear our mother's voice.

these are wild notes that press into the
waves, and i am frightened of this song,
it is dissonant and gathered from the
rivers of night, her tombs overgrown with
wild flowers and the bones of the sea,
and she cries for the lost,
for those that were taken from her,
and she will cry for all eternity
and her tears are like breath of ice.

She slipped away with no goodbye
No parting gasp or widened eye
One heartbeat she was here, then she was gone.

I didn’t know it was the day
When she would gently drift away-
The nurses said that time was down the road.

For many hours I’d held her  hand
And when I could no longer stand
I sat nearby to read a magazine.

I cannot say with certainty
The moment that her soul leapt free
I feel ashamed and live with secret guilt.

I never should have touched that book
It robbed me of a final look
That might have told me she was on her way.

I had to wait til Laura came
And here her call my Mother’s name
And cry out, O my God - I think she’s gone.

I tell myself it was Mom’s will
To slip away when all was still
But yet I should have stood there at her side.

I might have sensed her spirit’s flight
Or seen some otherworldly light
Instead I idly looked at wedding gowns,

I feel I didn’t make the grade
And ever since that time I’ve prayed
That she’ll forgive the lapse and love me still.

Wherever she is dancing now
I hope she realizes how
My love is wrapped around her like a crown.

And as she starts eternity
With body new and spirit free
I hope she knows her heart lives on in me.

I think about her all the while
Sometimes with tear-sometimes with smile
But she walks closer by me than before.
  
The wisdom that she shared with me-
The training in the way to be
Are part and parcel of my very soul.

I’ll always be a part of her
Through any change that may occur
My love and fond remembrance will not fade.

So though she left without goodbye
To claim her mansion in the sky
I know she’ll save a corner there for me.

And come that future afternoon
Maybe distant, maybe soon,
I’ll hold her hand in greeting, not farewell.

And she will say she overlooked
My sitting down with bridal book
And that she knows I did the best I could.

She knew the measure of my love
And as she joined the realms above
Considered me to be her good girl still.

Then all the pain I’ve hid inside
Will disappear and I can glide
Into my own eternity at peace.          
                ljm

i want love with sleep in its eyes,
that when it yawns, and stretches
the bedsheets in a sleepy *****,
whips the night out the window
and breathes out a darling "good morning"

i want love that wears pyjamas,
that smells of stale-ish coffee and toast;
slightly-burned, like it always will be,
but on which butter melts, without a protest,
under the spell of our kitchen waltz

i want love next door to lust;
a semi-detached carnal passion
who, once or twice a week, comes for tea,
shares a bottle of wine, and raises a toast
to old times of late nights and later mornings

i want love with sleep in its eyes,
with its forehead rested against mine
with its legs entwined, arms aching,
but enraptured in the same embrace
i've grown to fit into so well

I too will go to you, says the son
to the face of the father.

He broadens his smile
thin and gathering dust for long
as if to acknowledge
he always knew
one day his son would stand before him
resigned and weary
willing to join on his route.

The son sees his father's lips
move in the briefest prayer..

Welcome.

Piano notes drift in the
rainy evening,
like sadness from a
clock.
You were the color
in my dreams.
The paint on my
canvas.

Mom took my brother and
I to the cemetery when
we were kids.
Her mother and grandma
were there underneath the
grass and dirt.
The spring breeze felt
good on my face.
We put carnations and
lilacs on all the graves.
She told us stories about
our dead relatives.
The tombstones, with the
dates seemed ancient and
final.

After flowering all the
graves, we went to
the pond and fed
the ducks and swans.
There was a fire in
their eyes.
They were always
hungry.
They gobbled the bread
and swam in circles.

When we became
teenagers, Mom took
us to the cemetery, and
taught us how to drive.
She said it was
safer there.
We couldn't ****
anyone.

Many years later
I took my little sons to
cemetery.
I showed them all
the graves and told
the old family stories.
"That's your grandma,"  I said,
pointing to the tombstone.
"She brought me here,
when I was your age."

My oldest son, Zach, who was
seven at the time said,
"When I get old,
I'm going to bring my kids
here to visit the family.
Will you come with us, Daddy?"
"Sure", I said.
Let's feed the swans.

On wings of ravens, your sanity flew.
Taken to the shadows, your mind is lost.
Life's cruel fist, and melancholia, you knew.
You traded it all for such a high cost.
Too far gone in distant time, your eyes.
I can't go to where you have wandered late.
In pain, you can grow, but you bought the lies.
How does your vast and empty world now rate?

I read of sanity lost in old books
But never thought it would happen to us.
Thank God you are immune to all the looks.
In my weakness, I scream, you succubus!
I wish I could have saved you from yourself.
And now my love sits lonely on a shelf.

i stare to sea where autumn's night-winds tease
and sea waves crash and run with all their fire,
i feel a sense of rest that doesn't tire,
caught up in sea-rose reds and heady breeze
and like the fiery waves and sea-blown trees
this love of flames that once burnt with desire
now nothing seems, all fallen though once higher
than love's sweet dream that waking quickly flees!
oh, love's sweet dream! the metronome-like waves
beat like a pulse, a love of moon and tide,
the whispered song has faded, bitter-sweet
and drowsy as the water near my feet,
magnolia now blooms near these old graves
and i no longer yearn to be his bride.