Becoming (2)

On December 3, 2020, I wrote and posted the poem, Becoming, and then about a week ago I wrote another poem, yep, you guessed it, also called Becoming. I’m sure this has happened to you, and it has for me too; yet, this time, I wanted to post the second poem as it is, title and all.

In a way, I think it is perfectly appropriate for this past year. A time of struggle, death, and extreme hardship in so many different ways; and a time of hope, life, and extreme gratitude. I am holding these concepts with you, and the space inbetween, as I present this second poem on becoming.

As I sit and ponder, and also wonder,
and, yes, sometimes feel flustered with
the emotions coming, all the while I know
I’m becoming.

Something different each day, while sitting
in the midst of the presence of the thinking
and never ending feelings.

It’s hard as the tears come,
sometimes it’s a trickle and not a flood. While
at other times, the flood would feel like a respite,
with the tsunami of tears pouring forth.

Sometimes it’s a song, or a quick flash
of a not so distant past. It feels, moves, and
pushes the limits of the pain I think is possible
to bear, and then just when I think subside is in
stride, I break again.

Darkness envelops me, and I bend over
the pain pulling me towards the floor, where
at times I feel like I’ll learn more.

Just lay there and be, and let the emotions
wash over me. One wave and then the next,
they pass through, and time becomes something
extraordinary.

And, yet, my dear, just like you, they stop coming,
all the while there’s still more incoming. I pick myself up,
wash my face, and look at the person staring back
through the picture of my mirrored life forthcoming.

He wears a smile with swollen eyes, face damp
with the salted tears of years of trying. Yet, deep down
he knows, while trying is a piece of the whole, it’s in
the doing where the scattered fragments
become one, as we march towards
our continual becoming.

#poetry, #becoming, #death, #emotions, #hope, #life, #loss, #love, #pain, #poem, #poems

Loss

Photo by Anne Nygård on Unsplash

Happens
To us all
Even when
We’d rather

Forestall

The pain, and
Grief
From coming

Close

At heart, we hold
Those dear,
And, when there’s

A suddenance
To the loss,
We fall backward
And out of

Cadence

With our normal
Rhythm
Of life, not because
We’re made of strife

Rather, because
We’re a part of this
Very life,
Which contains

Both,
Misery and joy,
And, yes, we do
Employ them both, and

It’s okay to feel them

As needed,
Even prescriptive
When hidden

And, now I’m

At your hospital bed,
Awaiting your return

Hoping and praying

That it’s not
Your turn, yet
Knowing it’s likely

As we can see
The signs
Written
Upon

The wall of your life,

Nay, our life,
Together

Because, yes, we
Were friends, and
Strangers in some ways

Until the very end

And in coping
I try to understand
Why it happened

So fast, and am
Reminded it’s
Not mine to pretend

To know
The answers
My friend

I called you
My dad,
And, did until
The end

With that last
Kiss upon you
Forehead,
I rendered the loss

Of my father, and
Dearest friend

#poetry, #dad, #emotions, #greif, #heart, #joy, #life, #loss, #love, #misery, #pain, #poem, #poems