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The Bouquet

October 1, 2019

 

The Bouquet

 

I found a bench

Deep in the woods

Where no one else can see me,  

While here I sit

Among the brush

The tree trunks stand to heal me

 

Before my eyes

One calls to me

My heart it lifts, the embrace

Rest now with me

It softly speaks

To the tears upon my face

 

I made this spot

Right here for you

Next to this dam outpouring,

Release your tears

Into the well

That hold you now in mourning

 

Let it all go

Let strain seep out

Speak to me, I shall listen

My flesh is yours

The strength you need

To build anew, and christen

 

As waters fall

Spill from your eyes

Drain into your heart's vessel,

Inch closer now

Oh, tender branch

Come to my vine and nestle

 

These roses here

Laid at my feet

A present I was given,

From she who came

With her own grief

Each has her own rendition

 

You see my friend

You aren't alone

In worlds of loss and sorrow,

Please stand by me

Full trust in me

I'll lighten your tomorrow

 

Draw in the air

Walk with the breeze

It is hope that eases pain,

Keep watchful eye

An open ear

Fragrant memories remain

 

Look now, the gleam

Above your head

How the sun has cast its shine

To help you know

Through clouds and rain

You are loved my dear, you're mine

 

This garland lives

Against my frame

Take a bloom, one's just for you

For on those days

When fog sets in

It shall lighten thoughts anew

 

If night creeps close

When skies are bright

Touch me, despite my wither

Remember this-

When we first met

The words that came in whisper

 

Upturn your lips

Rise up and go

Onward, into the meadow

Hold voids with poise

I am with you

My grace glows in your shadow

 

I wrote this piece over three years ago and after several revisions, I did nothing with it and let it rest in-between other papers. When my mom died in August, I dug it up so it could breathe. It was added to the vigil and funeral mass booklet for her celebration of life. Now, I offer it here as a very slight comfort for someone who is experiencing the interval of grief or living through the intermission of a challenging time. Even if it reaches just one heart, its purpose will be fulfilled.

 

Until,

Marie

 

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