Like many people I spend far too many hours behind the wheel of a car. To or from work…. during work from place to place, appointment to appointment.
The roads absorb so much time… and as part of my profession I’ve also seen them take so much.
A meditation on the roads of life.
The shifting speckled serpentine,
simultaneously coming and going,
Weaving its way across the landscape.
Lines…. solid, dashed and spotted,
or sometimes gouged and scratched
by injuries to its inky back,
where metal and plastic, skin and bone once collided.
Conveying hopes, dreams and frustrations,
bearing the crosses
and scars of wasted time
and of wasted lives.
There is not a single day that passes by that I am not missing my little man, or that there are not small reminders that hurt and bring to mind Samuel’s absence. I am continuing to learn many things about the “process” of grieving, and small signs that remind me that there are things bigger and more mysterious than this life to connect us to our loved ones.
Whilst on a break of a couple of days, I took the photo above of the clouds at sunset over the ocean, and while watching this scene I was thinking about the ocean and the clouds and their constant movement, their power to heal when they are a source of reflection or the power to harm when they rage together.
It was not until looking at the photo that I picked up what to me looks like hands joined together making the shape of heart, and giving my heart a twinge, and the words of this poem came to me……
The restrictions wrought
by the confines of care,
were recognised as the reward
for the purity of our love.
The freedoms gained
are forever tainted
by the spectre of your absence.
by the pale tint of white,
An all too familiar experience for many. To fellow travellers of the sleepless night… I wish you sweet dreams (eventually), may sleep come when you need it most.
The sweet sound of silence,
is silently sweetening
the sensation of sound,
and sustaining my strength.
image from Thou-San at Flickr
Being present in the moment… The theme of my last post.
New Years Eve is a particular point about being present as everyone counts down to one point in time that they hope is full of promise.
Being present in every moment means being fully present in the moments when my grief wells up as well. So while I explained my New Year’s wish for you and I in my last post.. These are the thoughts that emerged in the lead up to that moment.
NYE sans Samuel.
Flashing, blinding light
A rainbow of color,
Harbour back drop
Revelers by the thousands,
Marking the passing of the year that was your last.
Counting in the new,
Of far too many,
That will be marked by your absence.
A new year….
copyright Mick Morris 2015