Remembering Your Life

On this day, you would have been 43 years old.

So today, I will remember the joy and love that you brought to our lives,

and the years I was honored to be your wife.

No matter how our story ended,

I thank you for loving me.

Happy Birthday, sweet, gentle giant.

We miss you.

Destiny's End

You raise your sword and

the sun glints off the razor-sharp edge,

reflecting upon the rivers of tears on my cheeks.

I will not struggle against the ties

that bind me to this time and place,

but lift my face to the sun

and wait for the fatal blow

to a heart that beats for the one

who will slay it.

I breathe and become the air,

the trees,

the ground below.

The dark birds circle, waiting

to pick the flesh of your soul's mate.

For a moment, time stops as you search

my face for forgiveness.

A final chance to change the world passes,

and you let loose your poison death

upon the only one who could ever

save

you.

The dark birds circle but find only

a garden of thornless blood roses

and glistening dew.

Where Have all the Poets Gone?

I was happily surprised recently to meet someone who is familiar with the works of Pablo Neruda. In this prosaic world, it is rare to meet poetic spirits. During our discussion, I discovered that a documentary film is currently being produced on the life of Neruda. The film will be narrated by the Grammy-award winning singer/songwriter Suzanne Vega and directed by the Oscar-nominated Carlos Bolado. I'm looking forward to its release and would like to share one of my favorite Neruda poems. Enjoy.

Leaning in to the Evenings (translated from the original Spanish)

Leaning into the evenings I throw my sad nets

to your ocean eyes

There my lonliness stretches and burns in the tallest bonfire,

arms twisting like a drowning man's.

I cast red signals over your absent eyes

which lap like the sea at the lighthouse shore.

You guard only darkness, my distant female,

sometimes the coast of dread emerges from your stare.

Leaning into the evenings I toss my sad nets

to that sea which stirs your ocean eyes.

The night birds peck at the first stars

that twinkle like my soul as I love you.

Night gallops on her shadowy mare

scattering blue wheat stalks over the fiields.