The Rules of Engaging Grief

Observing a Sandpiper on a desolate beach inspired these words –

“Intuition”

How does a Sandpiper
Calculate wave speed – depth
As it scrounges food,
Pursues retreating crabs
On still wet sand?

Are its eyes fixed back?
Do tail sensors catch sound,
Vibrations – salt smell,
Short twig stems feel rush,
Tarrying not instant late?

Is focus the answer,
Hunger desire challenge
Excitement completion,
Or does intuition extend
Us all to realms mysterious?

This poem was inspired one afternoon as I remembered in love my spouse who passed on five years ago.

“Where Are You?”

Where did you go?
Seems so long ago
We shared one pillow,
Drank wine together,

Laughed endlessly,
Cried soulfully,
Shared generously,
Prayed consciously.

And then you left
For me to find
Who I’d become,
A voice subdued.

In silence alone,
Patient as life’s clatter –
Distractions – subsided,
Spirit renewed,

As did laughter
And yes love too.
So here I am –
Where are you?

On the bumpy ride in the back of a pick-up truck driving on roads of sand in Corova, NC, I thought of the first stanza as I viewed homes built by those who are my age vintage.

Corova

As we age we seek
To realize dreams
Reserved for youth
Too busy to dream.

We plant fruit trees
Not anxious for harvest,
Build deep foundations
To refuge those in need.

Still we travel now
Beneath pounding surf
To wisdom love
In glistening light.

Is this our legacy?
A testament profound
For those that follow close
In awaking consciousness.

A walk on the beach at dawn prompted this reflection.

“Heard”

Did sun below
A cloud bank at dawn
Notice him direct
On the beach alone?

Is that why it tipped
Gold-leaf light forward
To form a narrow path
On glitter-flat water,

For a dolphin pod
To approach so close
As if to hear distinct
Soft murmurings of a soul?

I still remember fifty years ago seeing the three questions carved above the altars of a Jesuit seminary — where did I come from, why am I here, and where am I going. These last few days, I have been thinking again about the answers. Perhaps, a rereading — there have been several — of Kazantzakis’ Zorba The Greek influenced my reflection. Here is the poem:

“Recognized”

Whither is a region
Shadow dark where hardly
Distinguishable we roam
Unknown — one without another.

Here consciousness seeds us
Awash in soul-color splash,
Life-light dazzles blazes
That radiate – beckon

Through a portal spiral
Swirl dance melody love
Amidst eternal pulsing time,
Now recognized yet one.