Vanessa Gardner Nagel

  When will I see you again, Beloved?

“When you become all there is”, he murmured.

I peeked inside the yawning spring tulip,

That whispered to me of innocent love.

There I found procreative fragility,

But innocence was simply strategy

That caused my face to bend to the flower,

Inside was all that there is-an eyeful!

To learn those love-filled expectant pistils

Contain the Universe, my Beloved,

Makes this spring profoundly more beautiful,

So breathtakingly intoxicating.

Then among the molecular expanse

I saw myself-rising as a Phoenix,

From a universal, star-filled cauldron,

Coated with the pollen of pixie dust.

Grief is an ocean. You can drown in it, 

You can float on it, you can swim through it,

Sail across its stormy indigo depths;

You can be amazed and/or terrified 

by the creatures alive in those waters, 

But at swimmer’s fatigue, a helping hand!

Finding that hand has been there all along,

Discovered hiding closely within you.

Then the calmed ocean soothes your bereft soul

By gently lapping at your sandy heels.

(Still watching closely for the sneaker waves).

That keening and wailing you felt so deep,

The crying out to be again with him,

Will be a pair of Canadian geese 

Next to the shore, disappearing into

the lacy remnants of an autumn moon.

  I wish I had been aware

that I was your serenely hopeful Loon

Long before I recognized you as the 

Elegantly patient, wise blue heron.

Together we wished, dreamed, transformed ourselves,

But you were the messenger all along.

Why did it take your departure for me

To perceive good fortune was simply you?

Now, I am aware that hopes I have held

In check are awakening as flowers:

Like spring petals open to sun and bees.

Tears are dissolving into brilliant dew.

Although, always just beneath the surface,

Persistent longing brims on the eye’s lash,

New horizons are kickstarting my heart,

planting seeds in my imagination.

Dreams germinate in the realm of longing.

Leaves unfurl as do a butterfly’s wings.

Chromosomes that direct the enquickened goo 

Much as evolution of hopes and dreams.

As a new moon signals reconnection,

Reawakening my bereft being,

Lunar qi waxes into reflection,

Refreshing a possible crescendo.

This loon listens to her soulful heron,

The one who awakened her awareness

That all is one and one is everything,

And that last sweet kiss must last this lifetime.

Christmastime. Covid. Social-distancing.

I envy my friends who live with their love,

Missing my dear other half intensely,

Even profoundly until…pain prevails.

Bereft of energy and a clear mind,

My usual walk seems impossible.

Physical discomforts persist too much,

While keening emotional pain prevails.

How do I get out of this dark blue funk?

I need to put one foot up, one hand out,

And then…New Year’s memories flood my heart.

I miss his large, warm hands and…pain prevails.

I need to move, maybe to walk or dance,

An interest to live seems needed first.

When will joy return and fill my sore heart?

How can I move through this when pain prevails?

Which came first, the chicken or the quick egg?

Or in my case sorrow instead of joy. 

Seems like a yin and yang comparison:

Find the place where pain does not prevail.

I yearn to be held, told all will resolve,

As yet more tears race like a swollen creek

Over soaked, sore cheeks, robbing energy,

Exhausting sobs and again pain prevails.

Well-meaning, wise friends say healing takes time,

Impatience battles procrastination. 

My heart cannot take sides nor will my mind,

A conundrum ensues: will pain prevail?

Life doesn’t pause, let alone for grieving,

Please! No demands for thinking or solving,

I just want to run for hills far away

Where prevailing pain is numbed to my core.

I miss my tuxedoed kitty to hold 

While soaking pain in virtual romance.

Who needs a man when a sweet cat will do

To move away from prevailing pain?

How will I find that comfortable place-

The one that again directs me forward,

Always connected to my Beloved?

I’m desperate for pain to be in my past.

A snowy owl brings knowledge and spirit.

Perhaps an omen…maybe good tidings?

My Beloved reaches to soothe my tears,

And to wipe away the pain that prevails.

Grief streaks through the Universe like arrows,

Traveling waves of energy and light,

They are met with time’s resistance, dark clouds

Woven through soul and mind, as pain prevails.

Late winter rain races past my windows,

The clouds break to peeks of blue and new leaves,

And I feel hope for the warmth of the sun

So I can dance over the grave of pain.

Who is the ‘I’ asks a spiritual friend?

Get out of my ego, alternative

Unconditioned mind is where there is light.

The owl affirms while he watches me dance.

Flowing with stillness and clear energy,

Vibrations tuned to the Universal mind

Say “I’m not bound to the pain in my past”.

So dance, dear one, dance with all of your might.