The tremble was shallow. Barely perceptible. Just a shiver of slight life, a pulse not able to pump the blood in transparent veins, or to let sound spasm in faint gasp.
When death finally came, his big, astonished eyes already held its frozen glaze.
I did not blink once. Breath held in deep awe, silenced by the sacred delicacy of departure. Only when he died with a tiny nod, without exhaling his last breath, the words fluttered from me in deep sighs: Ah, Johann, now you are free ...
He was not husband anymore, or father, or sociologist, or genius, or cancer patient ... but soul: victoriously whole. We, his family -- wife and five children -- took turns to sit at his body; stroking his beautiful hands, and his peaceful face, softly whispering final farewells. He was present in his absence, as he was for most of his final years.
But now he would never go away again.
Author notes
For Johann, who is now forever with each one of us, and with God.
In a list
A contest entry
- short prose. ii. by iverbthenoun.
300 points, ended August 30, 2008, 7 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
-
this is extremely sad... heartbreaking yet there is peace somewhere... i am gladly his suffering had an end.
thanks for your entry 
-
This is a touching, delicate write. RIP Johann, and well done you for this fine tribute. God bless!
-
I am sorry for your loss and hope your beliefs comfort you at this time.
The writing is beautiful.
-
great write. i'm sorry to hear about your loss, faith heals all. He is better as i can tell you know! the pain will go away in both of you and the family! wonderful tribute!
-
my daysss!!! i felt ur grief, this was beautifully written! loved it! xx
-
It has all been said.
-
Beautiful & sad,
filled with both grief & acceptance. Wonderfully emotive...I am deeply sorry for your loss.
-
Very powerful! I'm sorry for your loss.
I also enjoyed the title, it takes away from the sorrow and adds a sense of pride and peace to the poem. -
My father hated that the beavers cut his baby pine trees. The soil was rocky and poor, and his trees weren't as big as the ones that sprouted as weeds along my driveway. I am a hunter; I enjoy the flood of adrenalyn and the gasp of breath responding when something enters my zone of attention. It can be a bird kicking leaves looking for worms, a squirrel, even first light raindrops. For the beavers I would watch for trembles, pulses, spasms in the surface tension of the creek. I understand trembles.
I once hit a redtailed hawk that was focused on a roadside meal and glided across my truck's path. I pulled over, gloved in leather, and gave him something to cling to as the surprise left his eyes...
I know what it is for the light to go out.
I have caressed the still warm body of my father and opened his eyes to see the color I had forgotten. Now my eyes have changed colors to be the same as his. I thought I had done the bulk of my greiving after the little stroke that left a driven confident man who was unaware of the pain he caused, gentle and childlike. To sit next to a choir director who was a vocal major who sang opera and cantata and realize his pitch was wandering and lost was such a shock. But I have managed to stay only a few steps from the precipis of greif. I can see the edge easily. I must calm to his legacy, and make it better. This catepillar hopes for sign from the butterfly he has become. -
These are sad things when they happen, but being able to rejoice in kowing that you'll see each other again one day is the most wonderful feeling. Thanks for sharing with us all. UNT
-
Simply beautiful. What a wonderful outlook. Well done!
Slayer
-
"The tremble was shallow. Barely perceptible. Just a shiver of slight life, a pulse not able to pump the blood in transparent veins, or to let sound spasm in faint gasp."
Oh wow, that just blew me away! Its just so beautiful and vivid. Great job! You're truly talented!
-
Just a beautiful memorial prose poem!
This prose poem memorial shows how deep the emotions and feelings of the writer are / were! I really like this poem -- I have written a few elegies myself and I always almost fill with tears to re-read them! This special form of poetry writing is a glorious form of expression!
-
Thank you for your prose. What an amazing way to look at the loss of a loved one. The part which most struck me: "He was present in his absence, as he was for most of his final years." That is so true and so artfully worded. Thank you.
-
This gave me tears, dear. The deathbed image is poignant and beautiful; the finality of the last sentence is profound. Best of luck.
Adding your comment:
1 - 15 of 15
