Old stones fall
from weather and age,
the call of the earth
drawing them down
after long standing.
Vines reach up
to soften their decline
in the healing descent.
Don’t judge why they stood
or their reasons for going,
they carried the weight
until they could no more.
Look for what rises
from the depth of the earth
searching toward starlight
from the sentient root.
A beautiful poem Don
There’s no way to judge what goes on in another human’s heart, really, that might lead them to put the weight down and leave, rising.
Such a beautiful tribute. Thanks for sharing, Don.
Thank you, Don, for this lovely poem. Your words encompass many losses, some known to us, so many unknown and forgotten.
Very thoughtful, Don.
very moving Bro
Such beautiful words. A living tribute to a beautiful woman.
Beautifully honoured, Don. Thank you.
Montana has an alarming increase of the young departing by their own hand. They have not stood long. Was it long enough? Methinks the incarnate angel knows best. Now endured 72 years, when my weight sinks my footstep deeper into the earth, my human self has a free, unjudged choice to fly out of its boots, or step over to dry ground and continue serving. the One I AM knows which…
I have been wondering just how to express what you have described about this dear woman, old friend from many years ago. Her sister and I told story after story a few days ago and my heart was resigned knowing she did the best she could, with all that she carried for so long.
Your wisdom and sensitivity are treasured in my heart Don. Always a place to listen to what is coming through.
Yes, the Incarnate angel knows best!
Thanks for what is.
These are beautiful words, Don. They serve as a carrier wave of ascension for all that is real and beautiful.
My heart reverberates with the truth of your words, Don. Thank you for this wonderful tribute to our friend, Kathy.
Don…I didn’t know Kathy but, through your words, I have a taste of her Being…..what a tribute! And she did carry her weight until she had to let go….
Having turned a knife on my own wrists at age 20, I know well the desperate ground from whence your dear friend departed. No one who hasn’t “been there” can truly understand. I honor her for staying as long as she could. I honor myself for staying longer than I thought I could… how grateful I am!
May Kathy’s beautiful soul now revel in the Sweet Peace that escaped her here…
I love the way you told her story using ONLY imagery, which is the poet’s truest and most shamanic tool. I recognized both Kathy’s name and face, but I couldn’t place her in context of our shared history; but I am glad of this intense even- handed poem.
I love your heart and art brother. Compassion radiates even when grieving.
Thanks so much for this, Don. I hadn’t realized Kathy was gone until I read your poem. You have honored her–and others who have gone / will go–very beautifully and fiercely.
Thank You Don .. I only knew her spirit, and love the depth of understanding you offer in light of her passing. I appreciated journeying with her through this photo.
Interesting that our society, on the whole, doesn’t have a way to allow someone to let go who is unable to keep holding on. I didn’t know Kathy, but I am thankful for the beauty she’s inspired in everyone’s comments and in your poem.
Don
This cuts deep and forces me to peel layers of my psyche that resist. What beautiful souls we encounter when we go there! Once again, you’ve rattled my core. Ancient , distorted notions continue to go by the wayside. Thank you for your courage to stand up. Life is both harsh and magnificent, and you capture it so well with your words.
Very moving
Thanks for your understanding words Don… a fine tribute to Kathy.
Nice job, Donnie. I actually “get” this one.
It’s quite visual, and that seems to be the major sense we employ these days, eh?