The grief of a woman makes the world weep
rain chiseling down through gray handkerchiefs
that know her tears so well. Lashes of eaves
sieve the weight of sorrow over blue pane
of knowing what is missing in the world.
Fire is doused and it smokes wearily,
turning coal to clinker that will sit sharply
like a scar in the hearth. Light on the sill
will be turned down; no need for guidance
once this storm has its way. Blankets will hold
no comfort and the mattress waits cold and hard
for her gutted restlessness. Dreams will darken
while she worries the rhymes and the reasons
such things should come to visit. But then,
as swiftly as it came, it will bend to breath
of God that wishes for there to be sunlight
in her hair and home and heart.
Author notes
For my flung-down friend....
In a list
- Beautiful Words by Beautiful People I Know • next in list
- List of Poems Written for Me by AP Poets (under construction) • next in list
- Written for Pen Friends and A Pack of Poets • next in list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Touching
and beautiful, you have captured the essence of her warmth and her grief, with the beauty and grace of a good friend, and talented poet.This is very beautiful.
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Oh, I love the way that ends.
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I really appreciate this poem...as it is a beautiful reflection of such a love for friend, your sorrow for hers... over a blue pane. Why should you change a word...as these words wrote their way from your nheart to hers...and I know how much you mean to her....so thanks again Carol...
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No, as with much of my writing, this came automatically... when that happens I do not touch it for a time. When I take it from here to publish, I change what little needs changing.
I appreciate your kind words....I do love her, dearly and she knows...
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Wonderful
And God may not ride through a telephone
but friend bestow those plastic arms to hug
the wounded tiger tight that burns so bright
when one of us is lost to that dark night
and know that in the gloaming of this night
she will glow again as hope eats the night
each morning with the birth of new days
while we prop up maps to the morning
to the hope
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"Lashes of eaves
sieve the weight of sorrow over blue pane
of knowing what is missing in the world."
Sighhh...God, I love you so, my very dear Friends...If not for you...Hope would find it even more difficult to rise again...Carol, I read your first comment & was so proud of you, my Sister...Indeed, there are things far more important than a contest...Like the infinite depths of your heart...& Lady, believe me...I can feel your arms around me from here...You, Rob, Nic, Tia, Zayra & Rich, especially...You all know more than anyone else...& I didn't even tell you all initially; as usual, I tried to bear the burden alone...Yet, you all sensed something was amiss...I felt the gathering drawing near...& I was actually able to sleep some in its warmth, drawing strength for the inevitable rising again...& the sweetest sounds of your voices...Ahhh, what joy it brought me, in the midst of ravaging sorrow...Thank you can never, ever be enough for what you've done for me...what you've all always done for me, even unaware...Bless you, my Brothers & Sisters... Wanda
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Carol . . . you are so right, this poem should not be changed, it is perfect as it is. Once again your words grab my heart and give it a little twist, making me realize that the pain of this world should not go unnoticed because it may help us heal.
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Wow
This speaks loudly of the hope we all cling to. It sort of reminds me that, while there are burdens we carry, life was not meant to be merely a veil of tears. There is sunlight to be had even though at times it is very difficult to see through the clouds.
Glad I stopped by for a read. -
simply beautiful
words allow us to send hugs and sturdy shoulders across centuries
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What better gift to a "flung-down" friend than the loving arms and ear...and yes, words too, from another friend who understands it all so well. Yes, the "grief of a woman makes the world weep", but somehwere it is written that God counts a woman's tears... I guess he is very busy at times, but he also counts the hair on our heads and let the sun shine down on us again. A beautiful poem, my friend - she will love this poem of hope and heart.
~ Nicolette
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Thank you Nic, I am doing everything I can to hold her when I am so very far away.
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