Quiet presence

I was a presenter at a hospice training this past weekend - again on the topic of rituals and good byes. I read several of my poems and it felt good and right. I'm going to post two that I read and another that I just found in my notebook. That Morning was written at a Hospice Education Day in 2008 and is about a moment I had the morning of the day Barry died. In My Dreams came a during a time when I had several dreams about him. That Morning, Too is about another visit with what happened, with what was.
I think I feel drawn to posting these tonight because I just miss him. I've said good bye to what was and hello to a new way to be. I'm fine - I simply miss the man I shared so much with and who was such a good listener. I need to talk... so here they are.

That Morning

I can see it, hear it, feel it
so clearly -
that morning.
Warm sunlight
streamed in the window
as the cool breeze
stirred the curtains
next to where you lay.
I paused,
took in the moment,
listened to your
sweet, contented breath
and felt your easy presence,
your love.
That moment, that memory
that morning
sustains me
as I greet new days
on my own.

Sarah Carlson

August 13, 2008

written at the Hospice Education Day

In My Dreams

I keep seeing you
in my dreams.
I feel your quiet presence
in the wee hours of the morning.
You come,
but you are always leaving
and it seems okay.
I can feel that you are content
wherever it is that you’ve gone.
I keep wanting to go with you,
but you make it clear that I cannot.
The last time you were carrying
a pack and I had the sense
that you wanted to take away my hurts
and other things I no longer need.
Thank you, my love.
Thank you for the wonderful years
we shared here in this life.
Thank you for your wisdom, your grace,
and your love.
Thank you for helping me through
this transition as you send
sweet and caring messages
in my dreams.

Sarah Carlson

October 23, 2008

That Morning, Too

I used to feel guilty
that I was not with you when you died.
But my whole heart and my settled mind
know, that in truth, I was.
That morning was so beautiful with
gentle breezes stirring leaves
newly opened after winter’s sleep,
blue sky and warm spring sun
illuminating a world bursting with life.
We were in different places,
me in my classroom,
you on the court,
but we were together.
I know that now.
That morning my attention was drawn out,
away from my self and my surroundings.
I stood by the window several times
and stared, but I saw nothing.
Something was calling me,
and now I know it was you.
Later, as I turned up the hospital drive,
you came to me.
You left us that morning,
but before you went you made sure
I felt the strength of our love.
It washed over me,
flowed through me,
bolstered me for what was to come.
And now as I put words to this,
I feel a renewed sense of joy and gratitude.
In tandem for 27 years
we were together that morning, too.

Sarah Carlson

March 2, 2009