Tag Archive | Losing a loved one

across the bridge…

as we laid
your body down
and you crossed the bridge

to the other side

the airy wind
blew it’s gentle breeze
around us, it flowed

to the other side

a lone tear
escaped my eyes
racing to my mouth

I had promised
that I would
stop crying

but the calmness
of the air
reminds of your gentle ways

when will we
see you again, if ever,
my heart is pained.

For you my dear friend – departed – I wish not to say. May your soul find rest after all the pain. May you know peace and may your wings continue to flap gently in the wind. I see your smile. Though we know that none of us will get out of here alive, that death is part of life, yet, its sting is never lessened.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Pexels.com

The Passage…

Spring stole in when I wasn’t looking – much like everything else around me that happened while I was in a haze of grief and if it wasn’t for Doreen’s push, I would still be wrapped up in my age-old floral housecoat wallowing in deep cups of self-pity and stale packets of Batchelor’s minestrone soup.

Doreen was right, and as much as I hated my sisters’ cheerful countenance, sage counsel, and witty remarks, she was right. ‘You ought to do something, Gloria, you ought to go out, do things, meet people, get your life together.’

‘I really ought to do something,’ Gloria thought for the umpteenth time as she tried to organize her thoughts on her life – or the semblance of her life. A fresh upsurge of panic made her heart race, and her hands grew clammy. ‘Failing to do something is like dying while still alive,’ Doreen’s words echoed in her mind. ‘But that’s how I feel.’ ‘I’m dying alive,’ she argued. “Stop it. “Just stop it,” she muttered. “You’ve got to get back your sense of perspective.”

 ‘Maybe getting organised or a holiday would be a good way to get started again,’ Doreen suggested.  She knew Gloria too well and knew how her sister had enjoyed a predictable and efficient life. For Gloria, everything was planned, in its proper place and therefore she rarely lost control of things – not until the miscarriage, not until her husbands’ sudden death. He was forty-one. Micks’ death appeared to have taken their plans to the coffin – a plan to buy a house, to start a family, to support Gloria’s fledging home-based business till she got off the ground and now she simply floundered.

To be continued…

She Called Him Mine….

enduring-love

They loved so much,

That a blind could see it.

The fruits of their love,

Was quite clear to me.

She called him mine,

And he called her Nkem,

Which also meant mine.

They were each others backbone,

One couldn’t go where

The other would not go.

And this way they stayed together,

From their youthfulness,

To their greying years.

Till death stole Mine away from Nkem.

Now, I watch my mother flounder,

Without my dad by her side.

© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

There’s always room for more poetry about love — and @vijayasundaram2015‘s prompt, Beloved, invites you to take a fresh stab at a timeless topic.

”Thank you Vijaya” 🙂