I must, will, endure, a hard toll for sure. For my heart holds to the sweetness, the completeness of knowing you, of loving you and being known and loved by you, a beat patterned to the core. May this heart's memory hold true and the day come, sometime, where I'll once again lean into the strength of you.
Only not this night, during this season of winter harsher than snows, for I can just cry, so cold, so lost for you.
I cry.
I cry.
I can only cry for my love, my dear.
9 comments:
This made me cry. I love you Linda.
quite interesting article. I would love to follow you on twitter.
Dear Anon:
Quite interesting comment, and you find it so, why, I wonder? II wrote not an "article", I wrote only of just hurt, plain complete hurt.About laying a hammer down, with some sorta sound, deep in a clay dirt ground.
I am just considering, when cut so hard, how does one work back to joy.
This is not tweeting, this is HOWLING. Kicking at the traces and happy to bite heads off. Drinking at least one good martini too many and screaming over the long salt marshes outside the door, at the f'king too much south of the mason-dixon snow which has chilled my soul, cold and frozen it.
You want to follow? Follow me around here and then follow your heart to who ever is so dear to you can't help but fall in their arms. You want to know what I feel is dear right now? It is good, ever so good friends that are - just - simply - there. One just called and gave me a laugh that could sweeten any soul.
You have been hit with grief, yes? Where and when? We who love long enough will some time, one of the pair be hit hard, preferably later than I've been. Inevitably, it is a price of love. A price I long ago prayed I would get to know. It tempers my pain, it does not lessen it.
I get that for all the pain now, I will always hold hard to the sweet times with Jack, nothing is dearer, nothing will replace that, he was, is the touchstone of for my hours and "size perfect". I would wish all loves should be so lucky as I, but I would wish they have it longer.
With luck we are all, to someone not, just, only, interesting, but simply, simply, perfect.
I write. I paint. I do things to make a point, however well or not, these things I do so that another may also read, see and feel joy, or despair, but almost always beauty. Beauty for the eyes, the ears, the soul.
Linda, your love shared with Jack was so beautiful and, in fact, riveting. Yes, in particular, this blustery winter is an awful one to have lost one's treasured journeymate. I pray that springtime will somehow bring some small measure of relief, although sometimes spring can make the grief difficult because of the striking dissonance between the outer scene and the inner anguish. It will be, of course, always a day or an hour at a time, no matter the season. In any case, I love you, and we all love you...And thank you for sharing yourself and your poetic gift with us to communicate your heart, and the unspeakably poignant life you shared together. Wishing you shalom, one day at a time. Hugs and love...
Cherwyn, Jayne, dearhearts, in the neighborhood of my soul you will always live close enough to share a cup of sugar sweetness.
Only those who walk in our shoes really know. Love and hugs to you Linda hazelcastle gj xxx
Hazelcastle, thank-you so much for your words, it was a good surprise to see them here and yes I did cry for what you said and that you had read this. And then I did smile a little, thankful for your kindness.
Dear Linda,
We just returned from polo in Ligonier and I wanted you to know how much both you and Jack were missed. There was a little tribute to him in the program and, if you'd like to have a copy, I would be happy to send it to you. Just wanted you to know that you were in our thoughts.
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