The world is strange
how for some death is a petite mort
for others, not pleasure nor hell
just a slice to be taken out and left without warmth
they can with their approximating whole
continue without sore heart
while others
they are vigil in grief
nothing mends what is broken
I was told once this is weak
it is the substance of survival that we let go, move on
those who are able to open their fists
those who feel less or brew sense of senseless things
I am therefore not strong
for death stings like it has
pressed its poisonous quill deep
my heart lays heavy in its fur cloak
nothing really aids grief
but the passing of time and memory
ushering us further from the moment
like a worried parent seeking retreat
though we know
as with all circles we will return inevitably to completion
and I wonder since I do not believe
in Gods and Devils
but occasionally I am convinced monsters may, be an exception
where then, shall we find ourselves?
after all our pieces have fallen and the board is emptied
will I feel you next to me still?
as dust, we strive to rejoin star light
or will a wink be simply a wink out?
and so gentle light is drowned
for a time it worried me until
I saw this as a curtain fall, something peaceful almost alluring
what hurts us is not our own demise
but the loss of others to the other side
where shade invagels night and the smudge of life
for none of us
not even the preacher
who believes he sees the face of Jesus in the sky
can truly know what happens
when those we love die
it is the ache of their absence
even if that love was filled with holes
incomplete moments where like a colindar 
we saw more water fall than keep
I know loving me was at best a fractured and intermittent thing
but real love is not how you felt, it is the emotion I had
Stirred into my rise, even as you walked away 
even as need became a habit, not a desire
I may have always been
following you, looking for breadcrumbs
and you may have rarely noticed
your child who wanted so badly to matter
but I find time changes those emotions
it is ultimately the love I bare
irrespective of your own
that will hurt the most
when you are not around to call
hoping you pick up the phone or
send me a postcard ‘I am having a wonderful time’
and my only regret will be
just one more day I’d like
to know you were on this earth
a feeling of being as secure as you can
with nothing underfoot
we get used to little, us, children of absence
we learn to eat what we are given
and from nothing comes so much
it springs up 
around emptied houses and abandoned lots
like red weeds will show
vivid and wild
in a landscape of naught
we are the tender feelings who labor
in spite of all
and that I believe is the depth and mercy
of a full heart 

0 Replies to “Children of absence ”

  1. As I read this incredible breath-taking poem.
    Its as if, I’m reading a screen play of poetic cinema;
    facing us the reader/viewer in the moments of truth
    You capture this poem and every line with pure gold and excellence.
    Love you sister. 🙂

  2. Beautifully written with your usual striking imagery, your magic way with words. (And synchronicitly, I’ve just been writing down some of my own thoughts on the subject – very similar – but not as adeptly put as yours.)

  3. Love this, beautiful and filling. This makes me think about how I will feel when my parents die and how I wish for so much more for their lives… and how their lack of really living and loving impacts me. I am always in awe of how touching and meaningful your words are <3

  4. This is awesome:
    “what hurts us is not our own demise
    but the loss of others to the other side
    where shade invagels night and the smudge of life”

  5. Candice, you are so talented. This is by far the best piece I have seen in a long time.
    My wife lost her father when he was 52. It’s been ten years and she still grieves for him. I think it’s all the unsaid bits, our sons birthdays, graduations and other moments where only a parent will do. Live, learn and never take the living for granted.

  6. Absolutely beautiful. Grief is individual. One of my friends asked me why I still talk about my partner. This caught me by surprise. Why not – death is only physical. It all depends on the deep quality you have. Some people have been together for many years staying together for the kids or it is the thing to do or afraid to start over and their partners die and it seems like they don’t grieve. It was quantity of years not the quality. It also depends the deepness or the relationship as well. Just saying grief is individual.

    1. Your friend said that? SERIOUSLY? Okay maybe not my place but I’m gobsmacked they’d say that. In your shoes that would have either hurt or made me angry. That’s unreal. I know people who talk about passed loved ones 50 years on, how is ONE YEAR ever qualified for that statement??? What kind of person would even think like that??? If that’s the way people think let’s seriously find a remote island as there is no love or mercy there. I would be more surprised if you did NOT talk about him or think about him, that’s just the very least I would believe and not even mentioning how he is with you in all things, how do you cleave all that? I never want to know. I’m so sorry that’s the most insensitive thing. You deserve more respect so do the ones who have passed. Never ever stop being exactly as you are.

      1. I was surprised at first and had made the decision afterwards looking at our relationship that it always was about her and her needs. She tried to set me up four days after my partner passed. I was shocked back then and now it makes me angry the insensitivity. I have pushed her away a little at a time. I don’t hear from her all that much and I don’t think she even knows that I am pushing her away. I think she will find somebody new to support her in her egoistic ways and I am not willing to do so anymore. Thanks for your support it means a lot. <3

        1. Set you up 4 fays later? This is not a well person. You jnow me I’m loathe to judge typically but come on! No respect for your heart not best intentions more demented insensitivity you did not need that. Optimism doesn’t mean forgetting it means living in spite of loss. Good grief. Not okay. That on top of losing him, not okay.

          1. I’m alright. How are you doing? I’ve had a migraine that wouldn’t go away. It kinda wrecked my activity for a week.

  7. This may be my favorite of the poems of yours I’ve read. Profound thoughts said beautifully. Yes, it is the living who suffer (as far as I know–with you, I don’t believe in heaven or hell, but perhaps monsters.)

  8. Deep ponderings. Do our beliefs create what we experience at our passing from this mortal coil? An interesting thought…. I have read many books and stories of people who have had near death experiences and describe what they saw and heard on the other side. Many believe they came back to tell their stories to give others hope.

  9. Absolutely an incredible write dear Candice.. it is a while since I came visiting.. I know.. But this is so profound.. Unless you have felt the real sting of grief, you can not begin to know..
    And even though I know life continues ‘beyond’ it does nothing to comfort the gap it leaves in your heart..
    Sending you love dear one.. I hope all is well in your world.
    Love Sue <3 xx

  10. This was for your mother? It’s beautiful. I’ve been thinking about my dad a lot lately. I really related to this one. Our relationship wasn’t perfect; but I miss it. A hell of a lot. xoxo

  11. very beautiful!! not sure, but it seemed like this was for a parent of yours… a missing parent? I felt the sadness underneath. very moving!! I want to add the fullness and joy of a faithful heart, leaves us never worrying about what we can’t see or will be waiting for us on the other side. If you truly believe as I do, He went first to prepare a place for me, and you, and I know it’s going to be Ab Fab!!! I can’t wait. Truly, I look forward to going Home!!! not scared, or worried in the least… 🙂 have a blessed day Candice.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.