You left ground and sky weeping,
mind and soul full of grief.
No one can take your place in existence,
or in absence. Both mourn, the angels, the prophets,
and this sadness I feel has taken from me
the taste of language, so that I cannot say
the flavor of my being apart.
The roof of the kingdom within has collapsed.
When I say the word you, I mean a hundred universes.
Pouring grief water or secret dripping
in the heart, eyes in the head,
or eyes of the soul, I saw yesterday
that all these flow out to find you
when you’re not here.
That bright firebird Saladin
went like an arrow,
and now the bow trembles and sobs.
If you know how to weep
for human beings, weep for Saladin.
Love: to reawaken in us the familiarity of the first touch, the intimacy in which all things are born, the fidelity with which the sun bathes the world in warmth, in which poetry sings the blue stillness of dawn, the profound simplicity of a white flower, of a naked, open heart.
That is how your love touched me, transformed me. As though my flesh and bones were no more than mist your breath traversed me, spilled into my heart of hearts, and in that blessed moment encompassing eternity I knew, I knew. I became a child again and at the same time, I grew.
By the river
where we played for so many years,
where our childhood laughter
echoes still among the trees
the rushing water
caressing your endless dream,
the wind carrying your breath
to the other sky.
and in the dark room
I light a candle.
The shadows on the walls dance
and I watch them slowly unfolding
my deepest memories of you,
your face, your voice, your presence,
the way your warmth affects me,
our bond rising from the roots of me.
The flame flickers,
my tears fall,
and my vision sinks
into the rising mist
searching for you.
You spread all around me,
a landscape of absence
illuminated with the tender light
of the weeping flame.
Sleep overcomes my tired eyes
while the candle keeps vigil,
burning an endless prayer
calling out for you so that
through the dark shadows
you may find your way home.
I miss you, Sarah. Your absence is a knife planted in my heart.