Another died last night quietly, quite unexpectedly one more tear is all I have when there's no one more odd that she spoke to him just yesterday after years of not having spoken adieu dear Arthur cc: CC 2020
Tag Archive: death
What is there
after you’ve flown?
Where are you
once you touched down?
Careful there on the ledge,
perhaps you’ll not fly again.
How sad to have flown
for the last time.
When up is down
to fall is to fly.
How joyous to have
flown at all.
I’d have thought
clouds to be harder.
I invert when I fly
for I am the sky.
So inwardly
I fall.
Alight on soft pockets
of air.
Dust
on air.
I pray while
I fall.
The whole planet
is falling.
We spin and we turn and
we tilt and we yaw.
The earth rushes to us
once befallen.
© Chagall ∞
Perhaps we are all
Afloat in this universe
Pending gestation
© Chagall ∞
I am from the sun, unable to find my way
back home in the dark.
© Chagall ∞
If my fate is to die by falling, let it be
Down weathered steps over the dunes to the beach
© Chagall ∞
Death is not absolute for those who stand above, outside
where spirit begets body – the wonder, not where body begets spirit,
for that would be a wonder of wonders.
© Chagall ∞
I dropped my son and his girl off
at JFK Airport last night for their
after-midnight flight to London. They
were so excited. I am so deeply saddened
that the world is as it is and I regret
that we are not all loving people.
© Chagall ∞
If death be not a parenthesis,
must life then be an ellipsis?
© Chagall ∞
The little horse has passed, still her harness bells summon
snowfalls shared, quiet leas, and the long dark nights of winter.
© Chagall 2017
She loved Frost but was less equivocal about the end,
choosing water over fire and ice.
© Chagall 2017