When I think of you…

When I think back of your suffering,
of the images and moments
that never leave me,
when I remember the questions
that in your pain you asked,
why me? What wrong have I done?
When I see your eyes again,
and the look in them
as you saw your life
which you loved so much
crumble before you and slip away
although you wanted it to stay
with all your heart.
When I feel how year after year
you grasped at us and at life
with every bit of strength and hope
you had in your loving heart,
and your words of not wanting to die
and leave us still ringing in my ears
as your tears rolled down
as I held you and tried to comfort you,
telling you it won’t happen,
that we’ll find a way.
When I think of your strength
and faith and patience
and how you dealt with it all
blow after blow,
and how after each storm of pain and tears
you were laughing again
and trying to manage and elevate yourself
and embrace life with whatever you had.
When I think of that time I told you
that it should’ve been me, not you,
and you told me not say that
because you were stronger than me.
When I think of your unborn daughters,
the ones we told you you’ll have,
and that time on your deathbed
when you asked me if one day
I’ll name my daughter after you, Sarah.
When I think of time of our childhood
when we played in the fields
by the cemetery where you’re now buried,
and all the times we frequented
the river and mountain
surrounding that place,
never thinking for a moment
that me or you can one day lay there,
at least not before old age.
When I think of my life without you,
how, still, I am not finding a way to move on,
how I’ll never see you again,
not once, not ever,
how you will be missing from all
the events of my life…

When I think of you after all these years
you tell me that life must go on
and the poem must be finished,
you tell me to finish all the paintings
you wanted to create,
you tell me to be this love.

I smile and I kiss you.
I love you with all my heart.

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Haibun # 6 (cancer, again)

February 2015, my sister, at 27, passed away from cancer. December 2019 my mother was diagnosed with cancer. The haiku below is a memory of mine from my first day of school. I remember crying as my mother left me to the care of the teacher, and I remember looking at her through the window while she left me there and wondering why she left me, and where she is going without me. Fitting for this situation. Only now I’m much lonelier than before. Only now it’s darker and colder around me. The warmth and care of the people I loved most is gone. And so I’m left with…

First day of school…
through the window glass
my mother looking at me

Tanka # 154

On her deathbed
telling me of the painting
she dreamed of while she slept,
hoping that one day
she would paint again.

One of the things that hurt me deeply is the memory of my sister a few months before she passed away telling me of her vision of a painting she conceived of in her sleep. She wanted to paint again, and wanted that painting to be her first after she recovered. She never did. Sarah passed away on February 03, 2015. The pain is still as fresh as if it was yesterday.

La lumière de Sarah

On pense en bien des gens qu’on aime

Jour après jour j’ai regardé ma sœur mourir par le cancer. Et pourtant, avec chaque jour, et contre mes pensées rationnelles, je voyais en elle, issue de son visage souffrant, une sorte de lumière inexplicable pour moi. Elle reste toujours inexplicable. Les rêves derniers de Sarah étaient vêtus du blanc. Je voudrais vivre avec l’espoir ou la pensée que nous allons nous revoir un jour. Mais je ne sais pas. Pour ce moment, pour cette vie, tout ce que je peux faire c’est essayer de sentir sa lumière dans mon cœur fragile et humain.

A Promise Fulfilled

The old faith,
that most beautiful
legacy of youth,
came back to me,
and again
there was joy in my heart,
again, inside,
dawn hushed white
and the sky breathed out,
and in the silence
I heard a voice
like a wave
coming over me,
coming out from me,
in the silence
I heard a voice
telling me to live my life
free of care,
that in the darkest
and most isolated corner
I am seen,
I am living in reciprocity
with life in its entirety,
telling me to unfold
my own myth,
be who I am
by embracing my becoming.

The old faith
came back to me
and again
I found my face,
a flower among flowers
blooming silently,
a star among stars
shining silently,
again I found my face
and there was joy in my heart,
a fulfilling of the promise
that love once made to me.

Conquering Death

What is eternity?—is it not this:
That I am alive, have lived, and death’s thumb
Will erase not one line that I have writ
Nor his nothingness wipe out my imprint.

I existed, I exist—this echo
Like thunder will ripple and roll through seas
Of life and death will never untangle
All the widening ripples of the I.

To have been once, to have been forever
So summon your life in her wild thunder
And sear your lifeline in blood and fire
On pages that never will fall to dust.

Tanka # 50 – to Sarah

Painting by Sarah Mhanna, early 2013
Painting by Sarah Mhanna, early 2013

Your painterly eyes…
the world a canvas
born of your sight,
a fluid river
of shadows and light.

Sarah’s last painting and the only one she dedicated to me. It was left unfinished, as all the other paintings gestating in her. Her presence transformed the world around her, transmuted it into art — this by her presence itself which was radiating, and by her fondness to transform everything around her into art and colour.

You once told me to live and be happy every day. Ah, to be Sarah-Joy, Sarah-Laughter.