As It Remains To Be This Unwritten Bliss... Poem by RIC BASTASA

i took the steps
carried myself down
to the river and then
uphill and at the top
of this mountain i
sit upon a stone with
a covering of moss

the mist is cool and
the air is bearable
with its lightness ad
silence

this is the time to
confront what was done
looking back at those
muddy steps tracing each
towards the river
which sings an old song
for me to remember

mama is happier when
dead and so papa followed
that early curious perhaps
as to the wonders of the
other worlds for she never
endeavored to return even
in his dreams

we are here
living our own lives
always reinventing what
we are

here in this silence
what can we really share
with those who want
to leave us?

nothing, we always
say there is nothing
with us

except for those who
keep the beauty of
silence because despite
all that happened
there is still a stone
inside our hearts
which occupies weight
which we bear
surprisingly with all
gladness

it is something that
we cannot say
because it can never
be said.... there is
simply now word for
it

as it remains to be
this unwritten bliss....