Boot+Kitty=Poetry in motion
This poem was written for a friend who has terminal cancer. She wanted a poem for her children that would help them deal with the season of the year in which she passed. Her nickname is Whispers.
Seasons of Whispers
Dear Children, I know the pain you must feel,
The loss in your hearts my absence reveals.
As sure as each sunrise, youíll remember this day,
But remember also these words I now say.
If itís in the Spring, days of glorious green,
That Iím called homeward though you needed me.
Remember these days not as days of regret,
But as days of rebirth and promise, instead.
For, Iíve loved every Spring, with its cleansing rains,
Itís azure blue skies, and new lifeís refrains.
Look to every blade of bright emerald hue,
And remember Iíd love those same new blades, too.
Do not hate the Spring
Perhaps in the Summer I will bid you adieu.
Iíll lay down this burden thatís pierced me through.
Iíll close weary eyes and breathe easy at last,
And slip tenuous bonds that have held me fast.
But, it wasnít the Summer of long lazy days,
That loosened lifeís grip and took me away.
No. Iíve loved every Summer for Winterís respite,
Each sunny warm day, each soothing cool night.
Rejoice in the Summer! Throw your arms wide,
Love these halcyon days; Iíll be at you side.
Breathe deeply the smells of gold ripening fields,
I once breathed them too, when I needed to heal.
Do not hate the Summer
Oh, wonderful Fall of great harvest moons!
Do not let my children lose their love of you.
Caress them with your sweet temperate clime,
And remind them of our many happier times.
Do not blame the Fall if its then I have passed,
How Iíve yearned for the harvest thatís come at last.
Like grain, life is sown and, when ready, is reaped.
My life has been fruitful, full of faith and belief.
When the trees change to rubies, topaz, and gold,
Youíll see the treasures I cherished as Nature unfolds.
And like the colors in the leaves that drift down to you,
I will always be here in whatever you do.
Do not hate the Fall
If its in Wintertime you must lay me to rest,
Do not hate the short days, and the longer darkness.
Iíve loved the beauty of Winterís crystalline rime,
That outshines the dew in warm, sunnier times.
Winter covers the world in a blanket of white,
The stars are diamonds in a tiara of night.
Each breath has an essence clearly revealed,
As if I was before you, alive, unconcealed.
Yes. Iím there, my children, in your every breath,
And its in the Winter when youíll see me best.
So, embrace those chill days when Winter winds call,
For its then you will know Iíve not left you at all.
Do not hate the Winter
So, how do you deal with this great numbing loss?
If its not the Seasons, then who pays the cost?
This task I have set you will become easier in time,
As the legacy Iíve left you becomes your way of life.
Do not hate
I love you,