Saturday, April 7, 2018

Eternity Made Visible



Upon reading Merton’s elegies
To Hemingway, Thurber and the Monastery Barn
In days closer to my ashes
I appreciate the container – eternity, formed in words.

My Mom tells her Doctor
I am the last. There are no others. I lost my brother.
In this moment she does not belong to the remaining quintet of her children, broken                        two decades before when she lost a son, her favorite.

In this moment she is wandering an eternity made visible, in skies undiluted by humanity.              Her captcha distinguishes her soul from the involuntary carrying-on of her heart.

In this moment her face lightens as if a Spring sun just reminded her of a new season, or                  her one good ear heard the caterwauling of their youthful mischief.

My Mom tells her Doctor
My brother did not know his present. He would not have known                                                                                                     I was not there.
My Mom tells her Doctor
They said "He had a smile on his face." Me too.                                                                                                                                  When I remember.
In this moment I kiss her brow and we carry on.

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