A recent series of events made me think of death. Not as a character in a book by Pratchett but as a phenomenon that everybody has to deal with at some point or the other. While searching around for the right words of consolation, we invariably end up with some form of 'Its all right'. I have heard those words said to me and at that point of time, I vividly remember, I wanted to strangle the person saying them. At that moment, in that place, standing with your world broken into minuscule pieces around you, it is bloody well not alright; but trust me when I say, in time, it will be. This is something of a reassurance, I am not exactly sure for who. Myself most probably.
A Time For Grief
A time for denial,
For dry eyes and preoccupied manner,
Mind running in loop - 'no,no,no,no'.
A time to see lips move but hear no words,
Stand limp in embraces wondering,
'Why?why?why?'
A time for laments when truth trickles through,
Sob shaken shoulders, gasping breath,
Heart hammering its way out your chest.
A time to cry yourself to sleep,
Wake up and remember,
Then cry some more.
A time to be strong for others' sake,
To hold them as they break,
Whisper in their ears, 'its all right, its all right'.
A time for people when you want them least
Awkwardness borne for a courtesy call
Torturing themselves, torturing you...
A time for loneliness and an empty house
Imagining movements at the corner of an eye
Listening for footsteps which will sound no more
A time for anger, face down on a bed or against a wall
Punching, kicking, hurting yourself
Shifting the pain from the heart elsewhere
A time for long showers
Mingling your tears with the water streams
So no one would know.
A time to try and forget
And be cruelly reminded by force of habit
A name choked on, speed dials pressed and cut.
A time for normalcy, when life calls you back
Things which have piled up
Phone calls, e-mails, the works.
A time to know that time has passed
To flinch and then know that pain is a thing of the past
Salt drained, leaving the sweetness of memory
Times will come when remembrance will hit you
The colour of the sky, the smell of a flower
Triggers for dormant memories
Broken bones of the past twinge on cold nights
Or some old forgotten joke suddenly make you smile
Time will come for you and me and them we love
Goodbyes followed by times of grief
But that is a price one has to pay
For the privilege of sharing their time
For calling your existence a life well lived in their company.
2 comments:
Is there a reason you chose to construct it as:
"Time will come for you and me and them we love" instead of the more appropriate "...those we love"? Nevertheless, this is beautiful poetry.
Thank you.
No reason for using 'them' rather than 'those'. There might have been; at that point of time...but now I can't remember why.
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