Death stalks the Valley.
His careless finger
Beckons.
Ready or not, friends
Step out from the line,
Leaving
A gaping hole where
The gift of life shone
Brightly.
Funerals, like beads
On a rosary
Counted.
A blessed release,
Some say. Gone too soon,
Too soon,
Much left undone, much
Left unsaid. A world
Of pain,
Regret and tears, Death
leaves with us, for we
Let go
Of Love.
USW
Ready or not, friends step out from the line...
ReplyDeleteWell said, Friko. Poignant words.
Wow.
ReplyDeleteTender, beautiful words about a stark reality. If this is happening to you now, I send my condolences.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem, Friko! Is there a name for this particular 5-5-2 scansion?
ReplyDeleteAll is in time, as it should be... it is only those who are left who mourn. Those who have passed know the truth.
ReplyDeleteThus far, none of my friends have 'stepped out from the line' but my son has felt that loss a number of times as friends and acquaintances have fallen in Afghanistan. I don't know how I'll deal with the gaping hole when the time comes, as it must. I'm not afraid for myself, but I dread the being left behind.
ReplyDeleteand so we dance 'nieth the moon!
ReplyDeleteAloha from Waikiki
Comfort Spiral
These are poignant words - especially since my 29 year old nephew just stepped out of the line and leaves behind many grieving loved ones. Death is most difficult on those still in line.
ReplyDeleteNancy has beaten me to it but - Wow.
ReplyDeleteWriting in times of deep emotion taps a well of creative expression. Perhaps your poem came from such a moment - and even if it didn't, it is fine, fine thing.
ReplyDeleteFor the one you lost, I am sorry.
Lost a dear blogger and this was the feeling that gave me.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully crafted words, nothing spare or wasted but so profound.
ReplyDeleteWonderfully put.
ReplyDeleteSo poignantly stated, yet the holes in the line replacing those bright lights that shown in times past. All too familiar and as the holes add up, it becomes more difficult to bridge the side by side spaces left in the line.
ReplyDeleteder Mensch mit seinem Denken schadet sich sehr, aber gerade diese Last kann Ausserordentliches schaffen...
ReplyDeleteDen geliebten Menschen mit der Seele mit sich tragen, kann man wohl und so bleibt er immerzu, aber dies richtig zu tun, mit stillen Gedanken und ruhigem Herzen, ist wohl unendlich schwer, zumindest am Anfang...
Renée
Thank you for the simplicity of words expressing such profound feelings. I feel blessed to have been a witness as a hospice volunteer and know that "I am so sorry for your loss" is often all we can offer.
ReplyDeleteA poem so many of us can identify with. Friko the words are so profound and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThus wasted are the ranks of men-
ReplyDeleteYouth, Health, and Beauty fall;
The ruthless ruin spreads around,
And overwhelms us all.
Robert Burns.
This is so beautiful and so true.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully said. We are never ready.
ReplyDeleteMuch left undone, much
ReplyDeleteLeft unsaid.
But you've managed to say it all, Friko in this heartfelt poem.
Thank you all for your kind words in reply to this rather amateur effort.
ReplyDeleteI don't think there is a name for the scansion 5-5-2, Vicki; not one I know, anyway.
We have had rather a lot of funerals at Valley's End this month; in a small community like this, one knows the people involved and there is always a close friend one would rather have staying for a while longer.
I appreciate this poem. It is true that when we write from this deep well our words have tender power.
ReplyDeleteThe last stanza leaves me breathless, reminding me that Love never leaves us.