Grief Poems for Norman

 

Journey Through Cancer

© 23Oct2016
1. shivers

running up

then down

my spine
no warmth

coursing through

my body


This is fear in its finest

adrenaline coursing

enlivening
preparing it for action


It's going to be alright
maybe he'll be safe

wrapped in my waiting arms

 

Perhaps it's okay
She might even say
'no cancer today'

 

She didn’t

She said METASTATIC

 

2. chemo tricks

get better

get sicker

 

brain blur

muscles quaking

skin red   raw

 

tumours shrinking

numbers down

horrible hope

 

3. On the floor
cold metal against back
matches the cold

running through my veins

Shaking mimicking

the vibration
of machine

 

Raw tears
anger pummels me
ripping my world apart

Not again
Not again


STOP

 

Must make the leap
to not steep
in these emotions
of stark terror


Must decide
to full-force live
again
        and again
Must trust

Slow
down
deep
breathe

calm

Peace is the balm

 

 

On Gossamer Wings

© 21Dec2016

On gossamer wings

like a dragonfly

up   off he flew

to the clear blue sky

 

And higher still

to the heavens beyond

till the Light of Love

gleamed all around

 

And though his heart

had stayed with her

he is complete

of that he’s sure

 

When asked what was

he doing there

he lifted eyes

in oft-ward stare

 

She gave me love

breathed life to me

she talked of God

I had to see

 

I rode on rainbows

swung on clouds

to get me here

and make her proud

 

In love I’ve walked

with my true one

a real bright light

she glowed and shone

 

‘Twas her sweet love

that lifted me

and gave me joy

then set me free

 

I’ll ne’er forget

my darling wife

I’ll be her guy

all of her life.

 

But she’ll go on

to chapter two

and share her all

with someone new.

 

This is the way

of love and life

we overcome this

horrid strife

 

And learn to give

again to one

This ending means

New life’s begun.

 

BE

7March2017

No one is sitting there saying to you 

"You must survive this 

peel back the layers of your heart 

delve deep into the spirit that animates your body

discover what it needs to live and grow 

become more than you ever thought possible of yourself

create and nurture the artistic beast within and 

you will survive this.”

 

We all must do this for ourselves.

Each of us needs to find our own way or die trying.

Be strong, be weak, be suicidal,

be tearful, be comical, be joyous and free;

just be sure to BE.

Emulate the strength of those you see around you

who are doing it, too.

Somehow it will all work out. 

It always does.

 

Grief as an Artform

© 9Nov17

At first it's too hot to touch 

hotter than a woodstove 

The onslaught of memories   regrets

dashed dreams,

threaten to wash my heart away

 

But there’s enough

paperwork

to keep my

head down

for seven whole weeks

 

Then my mind escapes into

planning mode

All is readied for

the Memorial

in just three weeks 

 

Reality sets in

Waves push me under and

a few weeks later

I’m sick of being sick

it grieves me to be

so grief-stricken

 

Expressions of creativity

rise up and rule

The days

offering moments of

high self-esteem

This I can grow on

 

Then I can have a peek 

but just a little one

Turn it over slightly 

in my mind 

see it for what it is

accept the good    the bad

the ugly

 

After that, I can be happy

when I see others enjoying

what I once had

There are days of reprieve 

between the

bouts of desolation

 

Compassion for myself grows 

no longer do I say,

"don't cry"

"You must remember every single thing"

"Don't forget"

"Remind others, too"

 

It becomes a bit easier 

the chats with my husband

don't seem so strange

I’m just another senior citizen

living with my cat

 

Emotions level out

serenity creeps in

acceptance of life on life terms

returns

No guilt for the happy times

(then why did I just cry as I wrote that line?)

 

Grief is never mastered 

just like the arts

Tears overtake me 

longing bubbles up

it’s just a big ocean

of emotion

 

Oh well 

'being normal' 

it was worth a try

I'll try again

tomorrow

 

Place in my heart

© 24June2018

There’s a place in my heart

where the dead live on

where they can be all day

tell their stories    sing their song

 

In this place they reside

I keep them safe and warm

Nurturing their memory

Saving them from harm

 

As I live my long life

they can remain with me

living on through my smile

and how I’ve come to be

 

taking lessons    making notes

from pages in their book

gaining wisdom from their life

giving mine another look

 

So this place in me where

the dead are tucked away

is eternally full

for always plus a day

 

Layers of Grief

© 6Oct2018

I’m in another well today

deep

agonizing

wrenching my spirit out of my body

great gasping sobs

escape

as I try once again

to come to a place of understanding

that you’re not here

in this world

anymore

I am lost

floundering

gulping for air

choking and crying

grief tightening around my heart

I see a picture of you and realize

you know everything now

you have that final understanding in place

you’ve gone through the veil and

live on the other side

I feel jealous

I want your knowledge

I’m dying to be with you

but it’s not

my time

yet

 

 

About the Author

Lyn Ayre is a prolific writer penning poetry, short stories, children’s books, cook books, spiritual books, energy healing manuals, and her memoir. This tallies to over seven hundred thousand words over the last few decades. Her favourite saying is, “I eat words for breakfast.” An avid reader, she also enjoys dabbling in the arts–painting, potting, cooking, gardening, jewellery making, perfumery, singing, and photography.

Her book, “Fragments of a Shattered Soul Made Whole: a memoir” was released in November 2018. Our Canada Magazine wrote today to say her story, “Heartfelt Thanks to My Husband” will be featured along with several photographs in their May issue.  “New Beginnings Anthology” will feature seven of her poems

Lyn is a proud Mom and grateful Grandma. She makes her home in Coquitlam, British Columbia, Canada.