For Karen, my student and my friend
As clouds of storm gather overhead,
the ambience lies in silence…
Sparse droplets begin to fall on the surface
as feet of mortals on the grounds of stone begin to tread…
Cold, gris stones stand motionless.
Filling the air is a moribund heaviness.
Tones break the cloak of silence.
They are ones of deep sadness.
Slowly a small casket moves down into the blackness.
To all present barrenness appears to fill the ambience.
Death has brought its shadows of crepe once more.
It’s the same story as many times before.
A child is taken into the earth
as a mother’s tears drip down her sorrowing cheeks.
The pain of separation will linger for many, long weeks.
For one there is no pain, only sleep.
For she lies now beneath the surface.
The mauve shadows of night begin to creep,
but life continues for those who are left.
Their blissful thoughts of the loved one are deeply felt.
Time rolls over the years, and death brings its hideous fears.
Thanatos plays its tunes of melancholy on the bandore.
The tunes are the same from distant lore.
Death takes its captives in their best prime.
Everyone must face the Enemy at sometime.
Life in the world does not terminate with the passing member.
On the low appears the spring flower.
As the meadows become rich in texture,
glory touches the land’s every feature.
The braes live with spires of delight.
The mushrooms thrive in the darkest night.
The cardinal and blue jay soar high in flight.
Loveliness clothes each glen with patches of calamus.
The bee finds the luteous ranunculus.
Branches tower upward to the azure circle.
Verdant leaves reflect the orb’s beams.
Cascades tumble downward with misty streams.
All of nature continues in its appointed cycle.
The viceroy and Victoria float across the paths of the semi-sphere.
They sweep over the superfluous Solomon Islands like many times before
The claret sunset dances with magnificent glory.
The midnight sky sparkles like amethysts and emeralds of the aged story
Dawn awakens the day as dew hangs heavy on the fir.
The fragrances of clove and syringa permeate the air.
The woods are blessed by the balaustine.
The winds tinkle the bluebells.
Beauty explodes on a thousand hills.
Tulips bubble over with a tint of carmine,
Night closes with a may.
Thoughts of merit cease with the lifeless body.
It cannot even hear its threnody.
Life is only to the living.
One day, the loved one shall awake to hear Elysian singing.
That day shall be the Olympian age of beginning.
The songs of lamentation shall cease forever.
The arrows of death shall be lost in the deepest river.
Night shall never be,
euphoria shall never fade…
I wrote this poem after Karen’s death. I was sitting at my writing table and heard a beautiful melody on the radio. I was recording music that afternoon and was able to capture the theme from the film, Ryan’s Daughter.
As I played it back several times, the words of the poem came to me. There is always a connection between poetry and music.
Karen was a vibrant eight year old who was bright beyond her years. Her tragic death by falling off the boat dock on the loch was such a major lost to this planet traversing the cosmos. She was the child of her parents in their later years, and she was greatly loved by them and her much older sister who had twin daughters Karen’s age.
G. D. Williams © 2011