In Memoriam (for Jason)
September 16th, 2011 § 8 Comments
Several months ago, a friend and mentor died: Jason, who gave me the fodder for Furballs and Stars.
In Memoriam (for Jason)
You would laugh at me, I know,
Call me silly and naive,
Tell me to bake a pie instead.
You would say you are as inconsequential
As a bug or spout some aphorism
About this life’s impermanence.
But do you know that you are loved?
You who guided others with your open hand,
Carried their weeping bodies on your back,
Soothed their fears with the balms and flutters of your heart,
You have more value than you know.
(A butterfly, perhaps.) (A brilliant, speckled bird.)
(A dragonfly whose pearlescent wings reflect the sky.)
You cannot stop us now. You cannot laugh
us off or tease away our grief.
We insist on missing you.
Beautiful!
May he Rest in Peace.
Thank you.
I like this kind of remembering, be it for friend or family. I find it satisfying to say. I’ve never been much on snapshots, like so many are, but that’s sometimes what my poems are.
Recently (surprised) to write a short poem about a young uncle of mine who I only (barely) knew as a very young child. But he was the real artist in a mostly unartistic family, and the one I feel most kinship with that way. (Maybe your poem here was some part in that one landing for me. I’d be happy thinking so.)
neil
Thank you, Neil.
Such a lovely epitaph. Those of us who never know him can sense his specialness by how you were moved to write for him here.
Thank you so much – for reading and still being here!
Nicely stated. Sounds like he was a fantastic friend and compadre.
Thank you, G. He was a big, loving hoot of a man.