time relentless passing

the fingers must relax

their grip held for so long

bent in that shape

tension held meant not to crush

rather to embrace

not willing to relinquish

to forgotten pockets

the precious

hard won

relics

 

shocking

the revelation

vivid clarity

when it occurs

when;  understood alas,

the marching days relentless passing

contain memories that do not include

the one  held so tightly

new memories  stacking up

in the space where they are not

 

the energy it takes to hold on

has no fuel to fire the process

the stored reserves depleted

by the erosion of fear

by blinding tears

stark reality

untrustworthy

bindings slip

to  flash

into

sleep

eternal

 

Sleep

no enemy

it is awake

the nightmare comes

the day without  voice

the moments without loving touch

bent by the forces of erosive time

the teeth in the mouth of gears have not changed

yet the ticking so painfully loud

mocks a beating heart

 

About pathfinder

Artist, Writer, Walking wounded.
This entry was posted in Coping with the Death of a Child, Death, Family, Friends and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s