Advance the clocks.
Groggy at first
there is no spring in my step,
no possibilities
that I can see.
But I do have another hour
to keep my eyes ahead
to days of flowers
birthed by freezing rain
buried deep in snow
pushed upward for me to see
that yes indeed
I can spring forward
to another day
into a year of possibilities.
As evening falls I close my eyes in slumber
Allowing myself to swim this ocean of memories
Chapters of love etched deep upon my being
All bitter sweet or sweet gone bitter
Fleeting passion, friendship adorned in tedium
Tepid nights of sighs quelling loneliness
Reticent reminiscences, specters in empty rooms
A requiem of illusive love defying end
The haunting image of my nameless muse
Spirit veneration of my palindrome poems
A song of truer times breaks the melancholy
Honeyed voice lifts the weight of silence
Solitude blessed by a sweet familiar whisper
“Cradle your head on the heart of hope;
sleep and dream my loving touch;
embrace the promise we exist to keep;
one day soon we will be forever…”
Poem by Frank de Jesus Acosta*
This poem makes me think of a loss and a future hope.
I imagine a 1940’s sultry blues melody accompanying these lyrics. Which makes the woman appropriate to the poem.
Poetry can metamorphize memories, “All bitter sweet or sweet gone bitter,” into a perspective where we pay homage to the feelings. Somewhat like the Alfred Lord Tennyson phrase:
“Tis better to have loved and lost. Than never to have loved at all.”
For me, the pairing of this art piece and poem illustrates the Mexican concept of death.
In Aztec culture, they believed life on earth to be something of an illusion – death was a positive step forward into a higher level of conscience. Skulls were a positive symbol, not only of death but also of rebirth.
Skulls were a positive symbol, not only of death but also of rebirth.
And it is in the rebirth, that one has hope.
*reprinted with permission by Frank Acosta.
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