Grief · poetry · spring · Trees

Cherry Blossoms

The canopy of my mother’s favorite tree

I miss your smell of Wind Song.

I miss your voice like bubbling joy.

I miss your hands like swirling gentle breeze in the house.

But I know that living means dying.

And I want to live. I want to live.

And you, Mom, I want you to be the dancing cherry blossoms.

Go, be the dancing cherry blossoms.

©2023, itsamyisaid.com, All Rights Reserved.

For my mom, who now is part of the soil beneath her beloved cherry tree. I know you can see your tree from all angles now.

Poem inspired by grief poetry prompt by Joseph Fasano, 2023

Grief · Love · poetry · Trees · Uncategorized

Ashes to Dirt

I’m sorry it took so long

I thought I had more springs

More blooms

More time

But your tree is dying

And it won’t see another spring

There won’t be more blooms

So

I put you there today

Mixed with that special soil

So you don’t kill the tree

That is already dying

Don’t worry

When it dies

I will plant

Another

You will help it grow

✨October 20, 2023✨

©2023, itsamyisaid.com, All Rights Reserved.

daily prompt · Grief · Love

I Felt Like an Adult When…

When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?

I realized, after the death of my mother, I was rendered an orphan. It’s not a club I wanted a complimentary membership to. But it’s an unavoidable membership for most of us. When the realization hits, no matter one’s age – though admittedly, being a child and experiencing this would be devastatingly traumatic – it is felt like an inexplicable heaviness in the chest that seeps its way down to the ends of the toes. Because what is really happening is one is facing one’s own mortality. And if that doesn’t make you feel like an adult, nothing will.