Showing posts with label death and dying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death and dying. Show all posts

Friday, January 8, 2016

mourning



maybe when someone dies
a new black hole opens
somewhere
in the universe
a place where the soul
can find respite in its great journey forward
beyond our understanding
out of sight of our grief
leaving behind the sounds of our sorrow

but what of our private tears
the sorrow  we do not share
at an afternoon vigil
or at a grave site
as we mourn strangers
as those we knew
what of the sobs no one hears
who can fathom their meaning

does a black hole open
to accept those too

Barry DeCarli
January 27, 2012
On Hammond Pond

Copyright 2012 Barry DeCarli

Friday, April 29, 2011

golden

mostly
we bury the body, the bones
hair and sinew
whether we believe
or not, but wanting to
that the soul has gone on
is not there in the cold damp ground

who chooses the season to die in
when the ground will not be broken
by pick, shovel
or sorrow
but the time for waiting is gone
we carry home the remains
the gravely grey bits
of charcoal
the dust of bones
not to be buried under heavy earth
but scattered in the winds of days
and places gone by
spoken words that matter
the release of substance and spirit

mourning and rejoicing
witnessed by sun, clouds
wind and sky
true friends

seeking
promising hope
the quiet inkling of something more

Barry DeCarli
April 3 & 29, 2011
Ferrisburgh, VT
Copyright 2011 Barry DeCarli







Thursday, October 7, 2010

Lost September

We spent the month of September on a vigil with my father-in-law, John P. Rooney, who was initially hospitalized with a fever. He was immediately diagnosed with a urinary infection and began antibiotic treatment. John had a medical history that would startle many, and yet he survived for over 30 years battling many very serious ailments. This hospitalization turned out to be a roller coaster ride of hopes raised and hopes dashed on a daily basis. One day, we were advised to call John's son in Colorado and encourage him to fly east immediately, which he did. Upon his arrival, John was in ICU and looking like he'd be home soon. Two weeks later, John died.  He was 81 and our 6 to 11 hour days of bedside vigil were over. From the day of his hospitalization on August 30th until he died on September 27th, John did not give up his desire to "live a while longer" and to eventually go home again. He was a gentle fighter in his life who never learned how to say "no." He was always there to help - you couldn't stop him. He helped create, with his wife Sylvia,  a wonderful family of 3 daughters and 3 sons that yielded many grandchildren and great grandchildren. It has been my good fortune to be married to one of those daughters. Through Debbie, I have been welcomed into a wonderful family for the last 22 years. All of these sons and daughters, sons-in-law, daughters-in-law, many grandchildren and others were there during that long, difficult vigil in two hospitals. I have yet to come to an understanding of all that occurred during that month, but I do know that it was remarkable in many ways.

Available Now! Camouflage of Noise and Silence, My New Collection of Poetry

  My 3rd Collection of Poems Camouflage of Noise and Silence   was published on August 7, 2020 Available here at barrydecarlipoetry.com $...