Stillness Now

stillness in the form
of the hawk circling
above aging headstones
and my timeless love

warm sun embraces
the tops of my bare feet
and the grass–their grass
tickles my toes and soles

i am here now with them
meditating at their resting places
breathing with none
of the urgency–of the fear
they had so freely given me
when they walked Earth

the sun drifts lower
as evergreens and the hawk
protect me and my breath

yet i feel safer with Mom and Dad
hearing them speak
directing me to tell
my brother how much they love him
sharing that greatness
is headed my way
confident that my ex
will do well in her new life

hawk, trees, sun
all breathing with
my bare feet resting
in the warm cozy grass

literally grounded right now
i re-affirm my pledge
to not get wrapped up in doing
and instead endeavor
to embrace being

stillness now
forever now

Dear Death

Death 8 21 17

 

I sense you
I feel your long pale fingers
As they touch and take the lives around me
Indeed, I sense the coldness of your touch
The killing frost that you are to all who could grow

Twenty-five years ago
I learned of your path into my body
You either didn’t think me a listener as you whispered
In that Reiki Master’s ear or else figured I wouldn’t feel her
Remorse when she recognized your energies entwined with mine

You fool
I had heard your dirges over a decade before
When we played together in my room late at night
A cord tied tightly ‘round my neck
As you patiently waited for my feet to step off and into your arms
Even before you seduced Mom with promises of release
As “How Long” and “When Will I See You Again”
Sang questions that I alone answered aloud to both myself
And you in the crumbling bunker of my adolescence

You didn’t scare me then
As instead the living called to action by The Angels
Forced me so deep into hell that I then begged with my razor
For you to escort me to my ancestors

As a child of nine thirteen years earlier
You caught me off-guard just once
Because then you were just something that happened
To people on TV named King and Kennedy, not Higham

You broke into my life a little at a time back then
Stealing Saturday afternoons and chess games from me
A secret companion Mom shared only after you had come and gone
On Mother’s Day as if her not mentioning you until after you stole Dad
Might make you forever disappear

I sense you
In the faces of a friend’s child
Those who ask me for prayers and energy
On Facebook
In the news
In my waking world
In my dreams or
In the future wrinkled faces
Of my children

I feel the bones the lives the families that you will shatter
As I walk among the ruins you’ve created
My tears and my grief are not for you
Even as I will continue to sense
Who you will only touch and who you will take
And how you will finally take me
But I will never again fear you
Or again deceive myself
Into believing you should
Into persuading you must
Embrace me before your time

© Copyright 2017 by John David Higham. All rights reserved.

Photo: Death (August 21, 2017)

I Was My Father (Dream Note)

December 5 2015 Windfall 101

I was my father
Dressed in an old hospital gown and pajamas,
Shuffling barefoot and alone in the brightly-lit ward
As I made my way to the stairs.

I was my father
Finding my navy blue station wagon
In the hospital’s vacant parking lot,
The vehicle unlocked and devoid of my wife and kids.

I was my father
Sliding into the driver’s seat on that bright spring day,
Accepting that the Ford started itself without a key
And shifted into gear as I gently held the wheel.

On empty suburban New Jersey streets,
My vehicle crept toward a home I no longer recalled,
The transmission failing as I wondered why,
Where everyone had gone, and how I was going.

I was my father
Again sitting behind my wheel
Looking at my quiet streets
From my vacant parking lot
Outside my empty hospital
In my station wagon without my wife or kids
On my sunny afternoon.

I was my father
In my driver’s seat,
Gently releasing my steering wheel
In my now eternally-parked wagon…

I was my father’s last dream
As my night gently became noon;
Sunlight streaming through my curtain,
His love streaming through my soul.

 

At Night

Moon W Cloudy Sky Trees June

At night, when The Angels
Surround my bed
And
Support me
And
Tell me
That it is not yet my time
To
Cross over,
They show me all colors
And
Remind me that my Mind’s Eye
Is
Not colorblind.

At night, when I converse
With
Those who have crossed
And
Read their words
Printed on red leather pages
And
Journey in the dream world
With
Their souls joined to me.

At night, when I see
Beyond
My waking world
As
Angelic essences swirl
Above
My dream bed.

At night, sweet night
Of
Conscious
And
Lucid dreaming
When
I fly about
And
Know such things
That
The waking me
Can’t
Yet embrace:
At
Night
I am emancipated…