Sandra Fowler

All Mortal Flight

I watch your poem go down in the west
And know old friends are gold without a doubt.
I clasp your hand to wish you my godspeed.
Our epitaph is written in your eyes.

White gulls of snow are swirling through the air.
Perhaps, in token of all mortal flight.
I will not call after departing wings.
Good-bye is such a final winter word.

Somehow the moment seems so windowless.
I cannot see tomorrow through its panes.
And yet I cling with simple childlike faith
To my belief that warmth can never die.

Dedicated to those who have lost friends and loved ones to cancer.

Copyright, Sandra Fowler,2008

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Poem Edited: Friday, August 14, 2009

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Comments about All Mortal Flight by Sandra Fowler

  • Patrick A. Martin (9/16/2009 12:10:00 AM)

    She still sings her unsung song to me as I cry myself to sleep and I think there are thousands of others like me who are the same.There is no goodbye that lasts long enough to close the gap and she returns to my thoughts before the words have left my lips.-10
    As always Paddy

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  • Shashendra Amalshan (7/2/2009 10:51:00 AM)

    yes ma'am you express yourself well indeed! ! this is beautiful write ma'am! ! !
    nice to read, very pleasing to the heart! ! ! thanks for this one 10+++
    with love shan

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  • Wendy Bureau (3/27/2009 1:57:00 PM)

    What a beautiful sentiment Sandra.. so many including myself have had our lives altered or touched in some way by cancer.. Thank you for sharing this inspiring write

    Wendy :)

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  • Samanyan Lakshminarayanan (3/15/2009 8:28:00 PM)

    lovely last line 'warmth will never die'...amasing poetry

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  • Sameer Ahmed (2/1/2009 1:59:00 AM)

    It is indeed a hard fact and I can understand the feelings being a doctor myself.....But one should come up with acceptance of this natural thing and celebrate the life of a recently deceased person rather commemorating........10/10
    Best Regards
    Sameer

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  • Mamta Agarwal (1/16/2009 12:41:00 AM)

    sadness, finality of death, acceptance and faith that memories amd warmth shared over a lifetime will live on forever in a caring heart. Sandra, as always i am bowled over by the serenity in your poems even when the theme you choose causes so much anguish, pain and confusion. you deal with everything with grace and equanimity.20/10

    Warm Regards always
    Mamta

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  • premji premjipremji premji (11/19/2008 4:57:00 AM)

    my little sister was a victim of cancer.
    one of her friends wrote in her diary:
    mortal pain or eternal bliss
    which would you prefer?

    please read my poem 'pain and palliative care'
    10++++++

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  • Kesav EaswaranKesav Easwaran (7/26/2008 10:04:00 PM)

    those last eight lines are kind compassionate and soothing sharing the pain and caressing the mind...reflect the character of the poetess herself...a poem dedicated to humanity... my ten supports

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  • Frank Cannon (6/10/2008 1:22:00 PM)

    In the Irish language it is common to greet departure with Slán Tamaill which translated means Goodbye For A While. The first line of your poem suggests that each dusk is soon followed by a new, and brighter, dawn. I do not view this poem as being sad but more a celebration of the value in true friendship. Great write.

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  • Original Unknown Girl (6/9/2008 5:54:00 AM)

    Sandra, having heard this one read aloud now it seems all the more powerful. The subject is one close to my heart recently and this most definitely resonates. HG: -) xx

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  • Ron Flowers (5/12/2008 9:37:00 PM)

    I can identify with this lovely sad poem.

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  • Melvina GermainMelvina Germain (4/21/2008 1:02:00 AM)

    Sandra, this poem definitely tugs at the heartstrings, a wonderful write.
    Melvina

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  • Diane Violet (2/6/2008 6:17:00 PM)

    Sandra this poem is beautiful and I thank you for sharing it! Hugs, Diane

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  • Malini KadirMalini Kadir (2/4/2008 10:22:00 PM)

    Sandra, it goes straight to the heart a poignant piece of work! all my admiration to you....
    I love your poems...

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  • R H (1/29/2008 4:02:00 AM)

    This is beautiful Sandra, I particularly liked this stanza:

    White gulls of snow are swirling through the air.
    Perhaps, in token of all mortal flight.
    I will not call after departing wings.
    Good-bye is such a final winter word.

    You capture the fragility and beauty of life alongside the sorrow and bleakness of loss. The warmth you convey in the line ' old friends are gold without a doubt' is truly heartwarming. I love it's ethereal tone and the imagery in particular reinforces the ephemeral nature of life. justine.

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  • Mary Naylor (1/28/2008 11:15:00 PM)

    Sandra, I think this is one of the most beautiful poems I have ever read! Your words almost
    make it possible for the reader to see through that windowless moment. The imagery is both comforting and inspiring. Thanks for sharing your beautiful thoughts.

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  • Katherine Wiley (1/28/2008 6:22:00 AM)

    Sandra-a truly wonderful poem. Your imagery is very beautiful and vivid. There is deep emotoion here: I like the line 'I will not call after departing wings'. Cancer took my mother, and I know she is here with me. Beautiful work. Kate

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  • Robert Howard (1/27/2008 2:49:00 AM)

    I recently lost two friends to cancer and affirm the doubtless gold minted by their existence. Their memory is enshrined in the beauty they brought to all who knew them. Thank you for this tender healing poem.

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  • john tiong chunghoojohn tiong chunghoo (1/25/2008 8:05:00 AM)

    dear sandra, there is so much of pathos in this poem, so well crafted through your visions coloured with so many striking images, metaphors so relevant to the whole poem. good one, flows like bitter coffee which leaves a great aftertaste.

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  • Will Barber (1/25/2008 5:33:00 AM)

    Friends can never be replaced, but poetry may express the loss. '..O for the touch of a vanish'd hand / And the sound of a voice that is still.'

    Time gives us gifts, and Time takes gifts away.

    'And the greatest of these is Charity, ' said Saint Paul, by which he meant brotherly love, pure gold. The sunset is the most beautiful time of day - a time of acceptance that the day has passed. A time of reflection on the events of the day must ensue, for poets.

    Your dedication is touching.

    - Will

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