Reflections on Grief (Free Verse)

We hear of endings
the last time
that last moment
saying goodbye
and yet,
no warnings of “firsts”
first Christmas
first New Year
first birthday
and many other firsts
who would have known
the last would turn full circle
to the first
being as tender as that last day
bittersweet in many ways
ingredients of woe
are recipes of grief.
how to separate sorrow
from blissful memories?
you don’t
it’s not planned
it’s processed
it’s lived
it’s worn
like an old hoodie
fitted like a soft duvet
feeling like a heavy blanket
struggling with the heaviness
of fond narratives of a past

ah but the weight one feels
of such collections that we sort
but carry oh so selfishly
letting go is not a language
yet understood…
hanging on to each noun, pronoun,
verbs and oh those adjectives!

Time does not lighten this quilt
but our heart becomes accustomed

weaving heartfelt stories
every shade and colour
securing them with bonded yarn
strong, everlasting scripts
never-ending stories
our heritage woven lovingly
… a family heirloom.

(c) Tournesol 2022-09-23

Happy Mother’s Day

(c)Clr17

It’s Mother’s Day and I keep thinking backwards and then forward…I miss my mom but i see her in me, and through me and through my children and love her for keeping her spirit alive in all of us. She is in my children and grandchildren…loving them so so much.

It’s that time of year again 
remembering uncooked chocolate pudding 
and toast in bed
each grain of powder saying, “I love you Mom” 
 ceramic paper weights 
paper doilies 
macaroni necklace…


I remember picking dandelions 
and drawing pictures, 
gluing absorbing cotton clouds 
 hearing her voice singing songs with made up words 
 laughing with delight and childlike joy
running her fingers in her curly hair 
 hugging me, whispering “I love you, darling”

(C) ClRoberts 2022-05-08

Grief etched on faces ~ daily moments

It's week two of our partial lockdown, curfews and life in this fifth wave.  My heart goes out to people living alone, especially seniors who have no family or few friends.  And then I feel for youths.  How do they see the world these days, having been robbed of so much these passed two years

underlining grief etched upon faces
woven in the fabric of their souls

upside down smiles
not knowing why, how, when
will life feel moderately
tolerable
again

trying to pull away
feeling bits of freedom
independence
rebellious 
teens being teens

but not now
stolen pockets of time 
laughing with friends
no one sees their smiles
masked with triple layers
no one sees their frowns
no one hears their truths
crying silently in their dreams

underlining grief etched upon  faces
woven in the fabric of their souls

a time to make friends
meet new people
parties here
get-together there

finally find that special
person
who gets them…

and yet, all those
experiences pre-pandemic 
wishful dreams
unrequited loves
unfulfilled aspirations

isolation
desperation
precious paltry moments
facetiming, 
echoes of a video chat

working part time
everyone under pressure
bosses seem demanding
clients irritated
parents stressed and worried

cabin fever breaks
time for a walk
bike ride is always safe
winter sucks these times
holding them hostage
reality biting with a vengence 


underlining grief etched upon  faces
woven in the fabric of their souls

© cheryl-lynn ‘2022-01-07  

Daily Moments  Jan 7 2022

Miss you Mom

 
 
7 years passed
missing her each day
like it was just
yesterday
 
miss her scent
rich and heavy
animated laughter
flirtatious smile
uttering  her sweet “darling”
with a British accent
 
7 years has passed
miss her like
it was yesterday
 
Love you Mom
now and forever
a timex love affair
keeps on ticking.

(c) tournesol 2021-12-02

(c)Clr’14

untold futures ~ free verse

untold futures 

so many changes,
scent of decay
necessary losses

autumn leaves
waving like there’s
no tomorrow…

unknown destinies..
are they really?
darkness looms
ever so cunning

coloured leaves
giving notions of joy,
 and yet, 
life’s on pause…

trees shedding
life- one by one…
on a sheet of rot

children unaware
seeing only beauty
prancing, giggling
jumping into piles
staring at the sky
until they’re all packed
stuffed in paper bags
carted off -- interred

some buried 
in their gardens
rest through the winter
bringing life to earth
in the spring

how I love the different shades
this  bittersweet season
the freshness 
of the air
and yet,
the scent of death
pierces my soul
my joints scream
my heart is heavy…
wondering if spring
will ever come again… 

©cheryl-lynn  2021/09/21

Daily Moment Muse – Free Verse

Nature weeps – (free verse and haiku) Daily Moments July 30 2021

Clr’2021/07/30

Nature weeps – (free verse and haiku)

written after reading the untruths of Rhéal Forest in Manitoba – a man of the cloth

…and I cried

I listened with apprehension
to a man of the cloth
not!  a man of God
because a man of God
does not judge
a man of God loves
unconditionally

and I listened
my mouth agape

this man filled
with self-righteousness
callous and vindictive
defending other men and women
of the cloth

and the more he professed
his twisted truths

I cried…

and the more I imagined
those who do not want to believe
and judge and blame the victims

I cried…

and the man of the cloth
spoke with a twisted tongue
filled with venom
like a snake…

and I cried…
for the first brothers and sisters
of their native land
who have nourished this land
and taught us how to survive

where grand-maman fed my mother
where my mother fed her children
and where I fed my children and their children
I struck my chest
with my fist
again and again and again

and I cried…

for the untruths
from this man
of the cloth
who is not a man of God

and I cried…

© cheryl-lynn ‘2021/07/30

(troiku) a new form of Haiku

leaves flutter
gentle breeze underneath
blossoms shudder

leaves flutter
speaking softly
fledglings nestle

gentle breeze underneath
vibrant colours
sway

blossoms shudder
nature
cries softly

© Tournesol ‘2021/7/30

Daily moments July 30 2021

A slow bleed Free Verse

A slow bleed ~ Free Verse

a slow bleed…

at first the world was shocked
like being on a ship, discovering a leak
but then there were too many …

like a kitchen fire
putting out the flames
until it spread too far…

winter, spring…
the world looked in shock
watching overseas
knowing what was to come

so many deaths
so many losses
too many mourners
robbed of saying, ‘goodbye’

and then summer arrived…

leaks seemed under control
fire was a constant simmer
‘Summertime’ in the air

most humans still followed rules
…except
those wrapped in self-righteousness
their stole of complacency
those screaming for freedom
claiming their rights and liberties
defying laws that protect humans
laws to allow essential workers
do their job
to keeping the sick, alive

healthcare workers hold a screen
a dying patient says ‘adieu’
from afar, loved ones mourn

a nurse steps out for air
in shock, so much despair
sees marchers scream unmasked
claim threats are just a hoax
deaths only media hyped
they see not what they do
but only their umbilici

under its watchful eye
coronas sneer at their prey
multiply to centillions

autumn’s expectations
children, youths, essential workers
vulnerable and at risk
coronas’ tempting hosts
spreading more and more
coronas hanging on

essential workers stock our shelves
food for demanding bellies
barter with the devil
should they get tested and miss work
or work to feed their family
should they risk to lose their homes
their families on the street?
no benefits protect these heroes
what else can they then do?

winter locks the world
…again
this virus holds them prisoners
scientists work around the clock
companies start producing
new remedies for the world
but…
our fears and egotism
controls human behaviour
politics gets in the mix
add greed and nepotism
all powerful yet fatal

leaders and wealth
put the world at risk again
the rich’s win will be short lived…
the poor …we’re still not sure…

I wonder which is worse
which virus is more contagious?
which germ destroys the most?

corona or inhumanity?
who cares…
they all  are now bedfellows.

the world bleeds…

© tournesol 2021 01 30

A cherita – a tragedy and a crime

A mother of seven suffers abdominal pains

A family entrust a loved one in the care of health professionals
health care providers who should care with respect 

Suffering woman wails and pleads
attendants curse and denigrate the patient
forever silence her with an overdose wrong meds

&&&

government officials offer their sympathy

Shocked, they fire one nurse and orderly pending investigation
Media probes the premier if he’ll admit existing  systemic racism

stubbornly shaking his head says, no
tsk tsk tsk, how can he fix a problem when in denial

&&&

seven children  and a husband grieve

a community of First Nations mourn together
Indigenous people raise their voices nationally

Sadly I sit,
Wrapped in despair and umpteen questions
Shaking my head, when will this ever end?

© Tournesol’2020-09-29

https://montrealgazette.com/news/local-news/indigenous-woman-who-died-at-joliette-hospital-had-recorded-staffs-racist-comments

https://www.lapresse.ca/actualites/sante/2020-09-29/mort-d-une-femme-autochtone-a-joliette/une-infirmiere-qui-a-tenu-des-propos-racistes-congediee.php

Welcome to our world, Lara

(c) star Wikipedia

 

I have not had the honour yet to meet this precious being…

your existence
has already
brought so much joy
adds a smile on my face

you shall be known
for touching our hearts
but more importantly
my wish for you, sweet one,
to be true to yourself…
Be unique in her own way,
amazingly genuine
authentically LARA…
my precious grand-daughter

when you are old enough
to see …way up there
in the heavens
look at those twinkling stars
they are your ancestors
winking and beaming
proudly upon you.

Welcome to our world, Lara,
and making 2020 so special!

© Tournesol’2020/08/21
Daily Moments – Welcome to our world, Lara, My grand-daughter was born Aug 20, 2020 making us focus on something beautiful rather than a pandemic (big goofy smile)

Longing for yesterday (free verse ) August 1 2020

Every once in a while,
she weeps of what was
and what is today.

The first few months,
She’d cry a little each day;
listening to tallies of the dead
…press conferences
Oh how she would dread!

the stats always on the rise
her home became her prison
of hope and despair

in time she’d try to manage
those blubbering crying spells
two, three or four times a week…
just a little overflow…
you know when you’re embracing life
and then you catch yourself
realizing life’s not so typical
you don’t know when it ever will be.

Every once in a while,
she weeps of what was
and what is today.

And those times
you think of your children
and grandchildren
and your wish has been
only for their happiness
no parent wants to see their children sad,
worried what the future may bring
you want them happy and hopeful
you want them to look forward
to newborns and christenings
to graduations and weddings
yes, those are things that make her weep
knowing their fears are also hers
she can’t remove, they’re theirs to keep

every once in a while,
she weeps of what was
and what is today.

today she had a few errands
the drug store,
the post office had a package
And then to her local grocer
so pleased was she
proud of her deeds
walking with her checkered cart
under midday sunny skies

Every once in a while,
she weeps of what was
and what is today.

And then she arrives
this new reality
slaps her in the face
washing, disinfecting,
wiping down every item
that was touched by others
you know… just in case

washing her favourite mask
cash back credit card
proof of ID health card
and all three condo keys

she’d looked so forward
to sit, enjoy those fresh fruits
a slice or two or maybe three
of fresh baked crusty bread
filled with berries and oranges,
and add some whipped cream cheese
and cold glass of cranberry juice

But the washing, the separating,
the storing and disinfecting
takes at least an hour or so

at last she does sit down
looks out at her balcony
flowers on her mom’s iron table
her tree she now calls her own
she weeps, of what seems so normal
yet, Is still not so
one still does not know
whenever that will be.

(c) tournesol ‘ 2020/08/01

 

an afterthought

how can one weep
up above the dark blue sky
heavens speak