Ashes of love

I must admit that it took me quite some time before I could do anything with Barry's ashes. There are many reasons for this and I do believe that it is important to do whatever feels right to family members at any given time in the process. For me, the right time and the right place did not come about until 5 years after his death. This was just a few days after I wrote the poem in the previous post and I think that it was, in part, a result of the opening.
I had done a great deal of journal writing in various forms by this time - and one of them was pages and pages of things I just wanted out of my head and needed to let go of in order to move forward - stream of consciousness writing. One day a trusted friend came to my house with a basic plan of going to the brook to burn some of that writing. (This may sound a bit strange, but I highly recommend it.) Anyway, I went down to my special spot before she came and made a little circle of stones, many of which were heart rocks that just kept showing themselves as I worked. As I did that it came to me that I also wanted to spread some ashes. What followed was a lovely little ceremony that just sort of revealed itself to us. I read some poetry and my journal and as we prepared to light the journal pages a spider slipped out from under the rocks of my circle of stones. I had also brought along a book about animals and their meaning in the Medicine Wheel of Native American culture. We looked up spider which, among other things, represents creativity - especially the notion of creating a new and different phase in one's life.
Since the time of this impromptu ceremony I have added other heart rocks that I find in different places. Each winter and spring some of the stones wash away as the ice shifts and melts, but I can always locate the spot and I find joy and solace in adding new stones. It has continued to be a place to access peace and connectedness.

Ashes of Love

Circle of stones near the waters of the
wise and beautiful brook.
Cloudy sky with bits of blue,
sunlight reaching through
spring green leaves.
Sitting with a trusted friend
reading poetry, talking about
progress.
Spider visitor
whose strong and purposeful presence
reminded us of creativity and success.
Crumpling pages of pain and anguish
that brought so much to light.
The warmth of the fire
as the pages gently
disappeared into ash and smoke.
Sounds of birds chirping
and the brook gurgling by.
My friend’s kind voice of encouragement,
my voice of surety and grace
as I read about my love.
Spreading his ashes,
not sure how,
then realizing there was
no judgment,
just the doing and the healing.
Some ashes in the circle
of stones,
others along the shore
and over the water.
Fascination as the
current took the pieces
and dispersed them along
the bottom,
the finer ones taking flight,
translucent, transcendent,
floating in the gentle breeze.
Ashes of anguish,
ashes of learning,
ashes of love.

Sarah Carlson

July 5, 2007