Food For Thought

I found this un my Fortune Cookie

I Loved You In Life. I Love You In Death.

Matthew -and- Our Shared Little Love Interest, Milo

Your heart that's been stilled and silenced

Beats on in mine

My Love
My Soul-Mate

I loved you In Life
I Love You In death,

I'll Love You In eternity.

Loss....

I drove David (my son)  down to his local Union Hall this morning for a class. But first he wanted to stop at BP to get coffee. While I was sitting in the car waiting for him I noticed two older men standing on the walkway chatting & drinking their coffee...the one man looked  just like Matthew, my deceased husband, his eyebrows, mannerisms, the way he was drinking his coffee, his hairline... I was mesmerized.   He caught me staring at him so I apologized & explained.  He was very sweet about it.  But now it's set the mood for the day...For the life of me, I. Just. Can. Not.  get past Matthew's Death.   'Grief' is like being marooned on a deserted island... a very lonely place.

Somewhere

This is something I wrote in 2003 not long after leaving Scotland, missing Matthew my husband, my friend, my soul-mate. We were casualties of a government bureaucracy.

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She lies in a soft bed of sweet summer grass
gazing up at the stars as memories of him tug at her 

tucked tightly under a blanket of want and loneliness

with silver moonbeams dancing across her face

thoughts of him glow like burning ashes floating up towards the heavens

she wonders where under the stars does he lay his head?

and does he grieve for her as she grieves for him?

somewhere, far away,  under the stars….

He lies in a soft bed of sweet summer grass
gazing up at the stars as memories of her tug at him

tucked tightly under a blanket of want and loneliness

with silver  moonbeams dancing across his face

thoughts of her glow like burning ashes floating up towards the heavens

he wonders where under the stars does she lay her head?

and does she grieve for him as he grieves for her?

P. Najafabadi

2003

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Seasons of waiting

A  shadow sits alone
on a hollowed out log,

in a place that's never had a name

waiting....

The moon swallows the sun,
daylight vanishes,
and still the shadow sits alone
on the same hollowed out log
in the place that's never had a name

waiting....

Seasons melt away,
Springs drip into summer
summers into fall
falls into winter
and still the shadow sits alone
on the hollowed out log
in the same place that's never had a name

waiting....

More time passes,
and there are no more moons to swallow the sun,
and no more seasons to drip into the next
and still the shadow sits alone
on the hollowed out log
in the place that's never had a name

waiting....

Limping by is a broken creature, one who's heart has become entangled in wounds and woes,
discovers the shadow who sits alone
on a hollowed out log
in a place that never had a name

waiting....

In a act of kindness the wounded creature sits down next to
and embraces the weary shadow
who sat so long alone
on that hollowed out log.
in that  place that's never had a name

waiting....

through dry cracked lips the creature leans in
and whispers sweet soothing words to shadow
and the two entwine,
shadow is lifted from the hollowed out log
freeing her from the place that's never had a name,
the wait comes ends

Shadow and  Creature proceed forward as one
following a path to a sweet place that's always had a name
leaving behind the hollowed out log
an orphaned child of  'wound and woe'.

P.Najafabadi
2011

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Please do not copy or re-print anything from this blog without the written permission. Thank you.