I was there when they came

There were no lights in the roomnapofeature3
to make him wince, the glow
from the hallway gave us light

We kept the heat on through
an unseasonable January warmth,
he didn’t like to be bound up in blankets

In the quiet still night he lifted his arm,
the right one he still could move,
the left at rest from the stroke

He pointed toward the wall
I asked what I could do,
perhaps another pill for the pain

He nodded, though not at me,
his lips in conversation, then his
arm moved slightly to the right

I was there when they came

His lips continued arm moving again,
once more with a final nod,
an acknowledgement ending their stay

With a sigh his arm dropped
he turned his head toward me,
eyes closed, finally he slept

I thanked them for coming
and attending his journey
I’m glad I was there when they came

He left me the next day while I was away
I wish I was there when he finally let go
but he didn’t want to hear our goodbyes

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.

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Author’s Note:

NaPoWriMo Day 16. I’m a day late and will catch up tomorrow.

Cicada Psalm

When one day passes into the next,
a thin time,
when deepness of a new day
begins its passage,
I heard cicadas,
a thousand voices,
sing Your name.

It filled the room with such reverence,
such verve,
I wondered
how one could possibly sleep
through the sonance.

Why didn’t the neighborhood notice,
throw open their windows,
dance outside their doors
in nightgowns
swirling and twirling
in adoration.

Chanting your thousand names
in late August,
early morn
I gave thanks for their prayer,
their praise
in honor of us,
who,
in our mortal lives,
sleep through thin times
under starlight and cicada psalm.

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.

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Author’s Note:

I walked into the bedroom very late at night, early morning, a few days ago. It was cool, so the fan was not on. The sound of the cicadas was so loud, I could hardly believe my husband was sleeping right through it.

I immediately thought of the thousand names of the Divine. I thought of the new Celtic spirituality I am coming to understand and embrace. I thought how lucky I was to be alive.

Thank you to my Celtic friends, Scott Jenkins, Macushla, Kathleen E. Moore, and so many others. I am on a new journey and every day brings delight and blessing and gratitude that you are in my life.