"We're all just walking each other home." - - Ram Dass

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Twenty Years

20 years have risen and set

days drawn infinitely long
while the years,
like the white belly of the bird overhead, slip by.

20 years my skin has grown.

as childhood made way for adolescence
shaping, curving around womanhood.

taunt and soft
as my skin harbored
two new lives beneath its surface.

while yours has remained underground.

20 years I have spent
matting the floor by your sleeping head
with my growing steps.

And yet,
I cannot escape the
cold February wind at my back.

those hot tears,
stinging, freezing
survivor streaks onto my 9 year old cheeks.

my hand
as it clutched the raw earth.

the thud.
still hitting my ears
as I let the earth drop

against the box that wrapped you in deaths embrace.

that whittling cold
seeped inside me
hollowing a corner of my heart

the size
of the jagged pit
I watched you lowered into.

This grief  - the grey wolf
expertly weaving between the barren birch
in and out of view.

silhouetted on the
still clear night
by the rise of another moon.

it's lone cry,
reverberating over the snow covered ground
releases my own.

This month marks 20 years of having lost my heart's beacon. 
While life has certainly continued its sweet song, Amber's prompt "Box" reminded me of the box that reshapes me still.