My prayers hang from the sickle
Of an unjust moon, dread being
Silent I no longer know to what
End I should attach my hope
I was not ready for the nightfall
But there was no way I could
Condemn you to remain on
The verge of departure
=
I can only cry when
Gripping both hands
Upright. How do you
Pronounce goodbye
When a plea for mercy
Sounds like a summons
For murder?
=
My eyes sink starless into an
Unwashed canvas, eclipsed
By cheekbones that grow in
Famine. My smile no longer
Connects to the flow of blood
But hangs on loosely like a
Partially severed limb. I wear
It in defense against those
Who would commiserate
=
I can only cry when
Gripping both hands
Upright. How do you
Pronounce goodbye
When a plea for mercy
Sounds like a summons
For murder?
=
The darkness has arrived
In the embrace of those
We loved, but there is no
Consoling a loneliness
That can only be appeased
By the one newly departed
=
The days we shared are unclear
Now, cobwebs lace my dreams
In the strands of light between
The woman that I knew flickers
Sphinx-like behind my vision, the
Photographs are still, reticent in
Their wooden frames I can no
Replay accurately their depictions
=
Only my heart holds the shapeless,
Indestructible essence of my love and
Here deep inside this sighing vessel you
Nest, a nocturnal bird given to lullaby
=
I chose Stevie Nick’s “Nightbird” as a child I doubt I understood the lyrics and even if I had a dim impression it would be years before I saw cancer. My step-fathers family has a heavy genetic predisposition for cancer, now in his 80s (he is 28 years older than my mom) he’s seen every one of his siblings battle and in all but one case succumb not to just one type of cancer but to multiple types simultaneously. I have lived with the dying. As an adult I still love Stevie Nicks but this song now has a much deeper meaning for me. I wrote a poem as I am not remotely musical.
mindlovemisery 
Reblogged this on Spontaneous Creativity.
MLM, congrats on being “Freshly Pressed”! From the first line of this poem:
“My prayers hang from the sickle / Of an unjust moon…” I was hooked. It is quite long, but I hung on every words like your prayers from the sickle (scythe?). Long illness, or a string of them, can alter one’s worldview, even knowing it is not in the family of birth.
This is both haunting and in a strange way, accepting, as the lullaby sways. Thank you so much. Peace, Amy Barlow Liberatore
Thank you for telling me Amy I had no idea! Sickle does allude to scythe. Thank you so much for your beautiful words =)
Glorious, beautiful, searing intellect as ever, finely honed to your craft! 🙂
Thank you wow you are going to make me blush!
LOL, its just the truth!! 🙂
Awwww thank you
how do you pronounce goodbye when a plea of mercy sounds like a death sentence…whew…wicked line that….great hook to get us started too…the sickle moon and which end to hang your hope on…there is an honesty in that…as you journey through this….very nice…
Thank you so much Brian =)
This is… brilliant. All I can muster.
Thank you Leah =)
You are more than welcome. 🙂
It takes a special gift to spend time with the dying. “I was not ready for the nightfall” says so much. We never really are, are we? And the photographs…most often I think it is hard to look at the photos of the one who has passed, as in the last days they bear so little resemblance to what they looked like in their healthier days. And yes, the heart holds love….in life and in death! Strong writing once again.
Thank you so much Mary, cancer really does render people unrecognizable
I could actually hear this as a song. The repeated stanza is like a sad chorus. My family has a strong history of cancer (mom had breast cancer twice and dad had skin and esophageal cancer). The disease sort of hangs like a shadow. Fortunately for me, my parents both are still alive, but working with hospice, I know the scars that death can bring.
I am so glad your parents are both well. I can imagine it does hang over you, cancer doesn’t run in my family but I am pretty much guaranteed to have strokes and I might not even be old before they start as I have cousins who started in their 30s, with Epilepsy I hate to think of any more disability to my brain. Working with the hospice must be difficult work.
haven’t yet finished reading this piece. It is wonderful, but as my mother is undergoing chemo for a very aggressive cancer at the moment, I find it hard to read. Many of my poems at the moment are about this subject, but I don’t seem to have the strength to “write it head on” as it were. Thank you for doing it for me.
There are many years now between their deaths and my poem it would have been much much too painful to write about as it was happening. I am so sorry to hear about your mother best wishes to you and your family. Thank you so much for your kindness.
Keep faith and all will be well
Thank you this was written retrospectively
Okay, so I love it. Wonderful control of tone and great word choice analytically aside. I want tears and distance from my tears. Give me the nightbird so I may fly!
Thanks Scott =)
Nice interior rhyme and I like the line:
my eyes sink starless into an unwashed canvas/
beautiful.
Thank you Bonnie =)
Wow. You reeled me in with “My prayers hang from the sickle of an unjust moon”. Fantastic lines! As are “My eyes sink starless into an unwashed canvas.” I resonated with the depth of pain in this poem, remembering younger years when farewells were so devastating. Reading your note about the family predisposition to cancer, I read even more depth into your work. Wow. Keep ’em coming.
Oh wow Sherry your compliments are kind
Such a difficult subject, but beautifully done. Powerful and emotional.
Thank you very much Anthony =)
Beautiful. After reading it I just scrolled up and down reading separate lines. “How do you Pronounce goodbye When a plea for mercy Sounds like a summons For murder?” is the strongest line, it haunts.
Thanks so much that is incredibly sweet, I am flattered
I have no words … this is pure magic.
“I can only cry when
Gripping both hands
Upright. How do you
Pronounce goodbye
When a plea for mercy
Sounds like a summons
For murder?”
Mindblowing !!!
Awwww thank you, you too kind =)
Very well written! I love the imagery and emotion.
Thanks!
A superb poem with an abundance of power running through it all. A sense of letting be and a plea for compassion…Amazing, especially with the music track:)
Eileen
Awww thank you Eileen =)
searching for something to say…something to portray your loss…is something we all face from time and the words don’t arrive…what do you day, what can you say…this poem is beautiful..this poem relates the words we all look for…
Thank you so very much
Astounding! Your last verse leaves me breathless.
Thanks so much Lisa =)
I was not ready for the nightfall
But there was no way I could
Condemn you to remain on
The verge of departure
One cannot disregard another who is afflicted (most probably here with cancer) to suffer alone. Apparently it may be terminal.Your process notes tell me you’ve acknowledged their predicament and cared for them. Noble of you, Ma’am!
Hank
Thank you so much Hank =)
“I was not ready for the nightfall” : most of us are not, isn’t it?
this is a gripping and powerful write, it got me hooked from the first line.
thanks for sharing!
Thank you so much and no I really don’t think you can be ready
such a clear image you paint with your words! I know way too many lovely people who are battling cancer right now. (and I pray daily for them) Even the word strikes terror.
It really does. I wish you and your loved ones that best and thank you for your kindness =)
Your poem is a plaintive melody for such tough experiences.
Thank you =)
What a way to start your poem, “My prayers hang from the sickle
Of an unjust moon…”!!!
Thank you =)
Helen’s comment ‘Glorious, beautiful, searing intellect as ever, finely honed to your craft!’ are words I would have chosen.
All beautiful, the final stanza is way beyond beautiful, way beyond.
Anna :o]
Oh wow thank so much Anna that is so incredibly kind =)