Little bird, singing praises
Outside my windowsill
Rising warm sun on the horizon
Reminding me, God loves me still
When I feel lonely or discouraged Feel abandoned or unsure
I turn my vision to the only
Source of comfort; Love that’s pure
Little bird, singing praises
Outside my windowsill
Rising warm sun on the horizon
Reminding me, God loves me still
When I feel lonely or discouraged Feel abandoned or unsure
I turn my vision to the only
Source of comfort; Love that’s pure
My dead are buried here
Cycling the winds of change
Filling my hourglass with the sands
of moments spent with true hearts
moments charged with life’s passing
Experience dictating lessons
of community
of unity
of vision
A tribal pulse weaving roots
deep into the soil of my hearth
fashioning the cloak of enduring life
a version of immortality
told in legends measured by grains
creating a life worth living
The stillness is
where you were
Intimately held;
death and life blurred
The wealth of years
Fell silently
The labor gone
So quietly
The stillness is
Where you were
The peaceful night
Embraces you
Mourning’s tears
A grassy dew
And yet,
The stillness remains
Where you were
Glimpses of mortality
An unacceptable reality
Because the stillness is
Where you were
She is well but doesn’t know me by sight.
She knows me by sound.
I have to tell her my name like a password
that unlocks that she likes me.
We talk,
Or I do the mundane,
Or we read together.
The together is a championed victory
The memory of presence remarkable
I’m fragmented by your absence.
Infinitely reformed.
I’m suffering love
the color of tears.
It is salty and dark
It is laborious to breathe.
I’m not afraid
of loving you
as I held you.
I’m conscious of the vulnerability
in which I’m submersed
from our severed physical connection.
My grief is a mere reflection
of our laughter, our conversations
distilled into our unwitting last
“I love you.”
I bring the best parts of us forward with me.
I will not betray our trust.
Your love is a part of who I am now.
No matter how deep the anguish,
There is no regret in cherishing
the you I knew.
I am an invisible person.
I’m sure you’ll disagree
But you’ve been well versed in
How to visualize me.
Maybe scorch-eye my belly
Disapprove my thickened thighs
Look down your nose at me ready
to allow me to be humanized
then possibly you’ll witness me
Become familiar and un-stigmatized
Perfumed purification
anointed my skin
fragrant with absolution
My brethren
Blessed sisters;
Heart-bound lovers
Spirit-kin
My blood baptized
in the cistern of love
Forgiven to be human
The elation of redemption
damp against my brow
Dancing in broad circles
Breathless with abandon
the release of blissful beauty
The process of living:
retrieving the cereal from the pantry
The simple pouring of the cereal
into a bowl from the cupboard
with milk from the fridge
with a spoon from the drawer
pulling out my chair with the extra cushion
lifting my spoon from the bowl with a bite of crunch
Automatic conveyance without mindful grip
relaxing into the sensations of living, breathe in
hold and exhale gently while ingesting energy
Setting the spoon to ceramic bowl clanking glassily
DISTRACTION
lifting my spoon from the bowl with a bite of crunch
that little girl under the table
scratching at knees as a mosquito might
pestering annoyingly enough;
but she’s not.
that little girl under the table
she’s not grown out of it
because she never left (even though she did)
Once in anger, once bereft,
grafting failure to achieve
something withered from the roots
Blood, not her blood, embraced her
brought her Polaroids of family blessed
as blissed as deeply remembered it to be
created in Tunes of resonant harmonies
The only home she wasn’t
that little girl under the table
who begged for scraps of affection
but the dogs eat faster, less furiously,
less needy than
that little girl under the table.
I’ve absolved myself of sin
of treating my body as a man’s
loving whomever I desired
again and again and again.
There is no shame between these thighs.
Sighs the ecstasy of night
Breaks the silence with Goddess song
Venus’ blessing; my kiss prolonged
Beckoning divine delights
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End-of-Life Doula
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By Tony Single
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