The Departed Poem by Ryan Swanson

The Departed



The melody comes to me from that place through the mist and past the clouds. It finds me in the dark, and draws me into the light; indeed the pounding of that rhythm moves me. From within the scared skin, the heart dances to its own symphony. When I cry, I see your face. When I scream, I hear your voice…telling me sweet things. You whisper from beyond the mist, from that blurry place, of the tone that provokes life. And when I am alone, and all seems dim, you bring the beat on a fire torch and urge me to dance to the song of our triumphs. I still see you there beyond the mist, you sitting there watching me. I still see you there beyond the haze calm and peaceful. I still see you there beyond the veil, resting a hand on my bed. Don’t worry, because I remember your voice, and your funny laugh. Hey, Don’t worry there! Because I still see you with every blink. And to walk the shores of our poetry sands, and to scream at that river of pain…but you were my guide, and when I wrote, anoche yo soñé contigo…que estaba yo, allá en tu Arena, I found myself. -RA

The music comes from somewhere beyond the mist, and I am cold but it brings me w
warmth. I am sad, but it teaches me to smile. And I’m so blue, but you show me the Tango. I miss you, every second and everyday, but you brought me the symphony, a symphony of science and of love.

Saturday, March 21, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: death,mom,remembrance
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