A journey not yet taken

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and I
on bended knee
in solitary repose
arm outstretched as if in
dance
……deciphering
the visions floating
in my head
imagination perhaps
…..a dream
in blackened chiffon dress
collecting thoughts
indeed I tried to
make some sense
…..for
I pictured modern angels
who danced
a rhythm of
their own
perched mid air
enraptured by the
beam of light
with poise and grace
and arms outstretched
…..as mine
enigmatic
bellowed sleeves for wings
they hung above my head
was it from
a dance in life
or a dance
after their
…..death
yet I felt
no fear or anxiety
for their faces held
…..no pain
I heard whispers
merely ethereal souls
on our
journey from
…..earth plain

~~~~~~~

Flight of Fancy

From VisDare another amazing photo to get our creative juices. 150 words or less. 74 words.

http://anonymouslegacy.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/visdare-22-flight-of-fancy.html

Funerals

Today I attended a Funeral.

This post will be respectful for the departed.

The Service was for a girlfriend’s mother of mine. This girlfriend and I knew each other when we were little. Our parents knew each other very well. Her mother was German, her father who passed away some years back was Czech. The daughter ‘L’ was an only child.

I picked up my ‘little penguins’ ( Mum & Dad) and we drove to the Service. The clouds had formed, the rain had started and we walked into the front room to see some of their friends and ‘L’s two children, whom I hadn’t seen for possibly 20 years.

‘L’ and her husband ‘C’ were greeting everyone. I hadn’t seen ‘L’ for 8 or so years…we just lost touch as in life we sometimes do.

As we saw each other and walked towards each other …there were no words, her face showed her feelings, her teary and bloodshot eyes were enough…

We hugged and she cried saying “Can’t help it…it still…”

“I know darling, I know” I told her and we hugged tight.

Then it was time for the Service and we took our seats, mum and pop sat next to me.

‘L’s mum was lain in the coffin in front of the room, adorned with beautiful pink roses and a photo of when she was younger.

The Ceremony began and on the large screen in front of us ‘L’s mum and a picture of her were displayed.

A favourite song was played by Marlene Dietrich. I didn’t understand the words as she sung in German, but it was tearful.

Her children then stood up and tried so valiantly to give their Eulogies. The daughter was unable to through grief. Her brother took over and though struggled talked about his ‘Babicka’ or Babi. Czech for Grandmother.

‘L’ couldn’t say words…stand up and tell how she felt about her mother..we all understood… I felt for her…how can anyone in grief talk about their lost loved one..

The Service was conducted by a beautiful woman who read eloquently, elegantly & with feeling..giving this person whom she never knew the respect that she deserved.

Photos of ‘L’s mum then came on the big screen with music playing in the background.

We  were asked to stand for those that were able & recite the Lords Prayer & as we stood & watched & remembered this fine lady with the music of a lilted piano my tears flowed…

Photos of her as a child, photos of her husband, photos of her and ‘L’ and with her granchildren..

The sun then shone…

The Service ended and my ‘little penguins’ were standing to the side of me. I turned and tears were flowing from my Pop & Mum.

“She was a good friend , we knew her for a long time”, my Pop said struggling..

That made me cry even more, I hugged him tight…and wept

Her coffin was wheeled away….

My tears were also for ‘my penguins’… life’s circle is a known it’s when the circle finally joins up is the unknown…..

We went into the front room for a cup of tea and to all take a deep breath… I sat next to a woman I didn’t know who was 99 years young.

She said “You know Funerals have changed so much since I was younger, in those days the Service was at home, the deceased lay in the coffin in the Parlour and after words were said it would just be taken away for the burial..I remember my father had that”.

It took all my strength not to cry again, this elderly woman who has seen so much in her life time,  remembering her father that way..

‘L’s mum is in the Arms of the Angels now…to rest with her husband…

R.I.P Lotte

Words…..

I’m listening to Sarah McLachlan…& I am listening to Angel.

Music…songs & their words…bring out a different me….possibly hard to understand or for me to explain… but shall I say my emotions change, they heighten & I’m empowered to write simply by listening to lyrics…

My writing emerges from within me, sometimes I do not intentionally choose the words, or the scenarios…my words choose me...what ever wishes to materialise from somewhere inside my being…persuades me to write. I may not have a wide vocabulary nor be as eloquent as some other writers…but I am compelled none the less to do so..

Listening to Sarah at this moment in time

I picture rolling green hills & glistening blades of grass brushed by a sun shower, the suns rays reaching out to kiss the  world beneath from behind the slow rolling clouds…I picture white crested waves tumbling leisurely to the shore, stretching themselves out to reach the hot sands before rolling back onto themselves…I picture forests tall, as I walk upon crackling Autumn leaves beneath my feet, tall timbers being graced by the light of the sun caressing their canopy…I picture a new born foal unsteadily trying to stand to suckle from his mother…I picture an open fire, staring at the coloured flames, listening to the crackling of the wood as it relinquishes its fight against the fire that embraces it…I picture a new born being placed on her mother & to watch the tears that fall upon the mothers cheek as she gazes with intense love upon her perfect child…I picture rain drops settled against a frosted window pane slowly trickling downwards and breathing warm air upon the glass to draw pictures…I picture my parents tenderly holding hands or exchange a smile… I picture lying on a blanket on a warm summer evening and gazing above at an almost blackened sky that has come alive with stars…I picture my daughters when I sat in a dimly lit room on a rocking chair to feed them in the early hours of quiet still morning..their small hands grasping my fingers… watching their eyelids close from being sated with milk & a sweet sleepy smile..

so many things that music & lyrics bring me..

so I write not for acceptance…

I write because I am compelled to share my inner voice that can only be heard on paper…

no one can stop my love of writing, no one can stop what is so much a part of me..

& if perhaps my writing may touch a life…

with laughter…a smile…or perhaps even a tear..

that is the only recognition I as a writer need…

HOPE

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars

Charles A Beard

You don’t get to choose how you’re going to die

Or when

You can only decide how you’re going to live

NOW

Joan Baez

Imagine the people in your life as tiny infants & as 100 year old adults. Ask yourself this question “Will this matter a year from now?”

Richard Carlson

The grand essentials to happiness in life are something to do, something to love, and something to hope for

Joseph Addison

HOPE