We sat in a circle,
His memorial evening, remembering
His sense of humor, his smile,
His willingness to listen
To problems. I remembered
At the end of life,
There are embers.
Unsung songs, deeds undone.
Death discards them all
In the fire.
When he died, a friend said she
Heard his voice tell her,
“I’m still here.”
Memories linger like embers,
Long after the fire has died.
Hot essence
Remains in red-gray embers,
Darkly glowing in the night,
Like stars.
Small pinpoints of light,
That if examined closely would reveal
vast suns
Warming distant galaxies.
As I spoke in the circle,
I felt his finger touching
My shoulder blade.
Do we remember the blazing fire,
Or do we remember warm embers?
About the Creator
C Jyl Parker
Starting from the fairy stories and poems of childhood, I've always had an interest in the fantasy, adventure and science fiction worlds. Although I've done a lot of writing over the years, I've published only a few short stories and poems.
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts5 days ago in Longevity
Comments (1)
Such a powerful enlightening poem. Memories is what we have to hold on to…they never die.