After all the stuff that memories are made of, it’s time for a little change of pace. When I first started out writing a million years ago, it used to be eight page long letters. Then somehow I ended up writing a little poetry. I guess I must have been a little soppy over some gal at the time, something we all do at one point in our life. Soon I started to just like writing, period. Poems were my first love and success, short story stuff came later. Since those days I now do whatever comes along, stories, poems and lately lots of professional type letters.
A number of times I have been requested or challenged to write something, usually a poem. Last week a friend of mine who is a great writer, laid down a challenge. We were discussing poetry, life in general and the effects of circumstances that can make one depressed. I hate to keep referring to COPD, but for me that is the one thing that destroys me at times.
It doesn’t take too much imagination to realize that whatever effects me is also capable of shattering both our lives, that is the wife and I.
With those thoughts in mind, it wasn’t too difficult to reach the mindset I needed in order to create. This poem is the result of that exercise, in a true moment of misery. Understand that this is not our state of mind....just a weak moment...
Strange how life can please, and yet punish so much.
In strife it seems, people do find each other,
Like moths around a flame, we dance.
Finally to alight, reach out, then dance yet again.
The music is the beginning, and still the eventual end.
Feelings and emotions swelled within my breast
Fear and anguish can tear a hole in your soul!
You wrestle with the inevitable, and still lose.
Yet again you try the resurrection routine,
One more time, struggling with fate, you fail.
She sat at my feet on the living-room floor.
Clutching, almost desperately at my hand,
She murmured, tears filling her eyes.
‘I just wish I could make you better.’
A vision of our beginning, an image of my end.
Slowly down my cheek, trickled a tear
Such words of seemingly finality came out,
As I uttered ‘I will never get well enough again.’
Then holding each other close and tight,
Sobbing fiercely, we both broke down and cried..
Eric Valentine March 4/07 ©