day after day after day,
I stop seeing you.
it seems to be watching me
as I watch it
but some of us still haven’t
learned how to use it.
greet me at the park’s gate and
I smile in return.
a staircase in the distance
that’s so inviting
what would summer be like
without your symphony
curling thickly up from your grave,
washes over me.
Once again, your short poems all pack a wallop. At least they do for me. You have quite the gift. You connect with the sky, the moon, the air in these. You use your heart. I am especially intrigued by the last. Was this the grave of someone you knew?
In my imagination yes, but in reality, no.
I work at two schools this year that are located near large temples, and every morning that I go to these schools I ride past these large cemeteries and the incense they burn at the temples comes wafting out across my path.
I don’t know what kind of incense it is, but the smell always puts me at ease and I’ve been wanting to somehow write a poem about it.
Next week is Obon in Japan, a three-day period in which people believe that the dead return to their homes.
During this time, people generally return to the graves of their ancestors (they have large tombstones with a space to add the ashes and bones of a number of people, so they tend to have one or two family plots to visit), wash them, and pay tribute to the dead by leaving them flowers and other gifts. They also burn incense at the graves so that the spirits can follow the whirling trail of smoke back home.
I wash and light incense at my wife’s family’s grave. I met her grandfather once before he died, but that’s all. I didn’t meet any of her other relatives that are interred there.
There’s another grave that I often think about, but rarely visit. It’s not far from my house and I drive past it from time to time while doing weekly chores. It’s the grave of a friend of mine who came to my birthday party 12 years ago and went home and killed herself later that night.
Part of the reason I don’t go there is because of a superstitious feeling that by doing so I might be inviting something bad to myself and/or my family.
So, this poem is an amalgamation of these things. It’s more me imagining myself standing in front of my friend’s grave, the one I’m reluctant to go to, and perhaps being forgiven for not being able to help her that night, or being forgiven for being fearful to visit her grave.
My goodness! That must have been traumatic for a number of people! I can understand not wanting to go there.
Your choice of the word "thickly" gives the poem gravity, and pathos. I know when I read it I felt very unnerved at line two, then cleansed by the "wash" of incense. Excellent work.
In the US we do the same, minus the incense (which I would like) on Memorial Day. I don't though. I don't feel anything at a gravesite that is any different than what I feel when a simple memory comes through.
It strange, but in Japan, I actually feel like I’m visiting people during Obon when I go to their graves (even though I’ve never actually met them before).
Maybe it has to do with this being the only time of year that I go to the grave. Maybe it has to do with the grave holding 300 years worth of my wife’s relatives. Maybe it has to do with the fact that we always go as an extended family. Or maybe it’s related to the whole story and belief that the soul returns to earth during this time. I don’t know.
But I definitely don’t feel the same way when visiting the graves of my relatives in the States.
Interesting!!! Maybe the energy lines in cemeteries in Japan are different from the energy lines here or something. And maybe several people with the belief folks come back at this time are able to put enough of the energies (for lack of a better word - coordinates?) of the deceased back together so that they actually are returned. I love that!
That’s interesting to think about. I’ll have to take a dowsing lesson from samstonehill and see what happens.
I was also wondering if it has anything to do with not actually knowing the people that I’m visiting, as strange as that may seem.
cuidar el corazón es prioridad
Sí, tienes razón. El cuidado del corazón es muy importante.
Hahaha. Indeed everyone has a heart but just a few have learned to use it. Just maybe some doesn't know why it's there
It’s there to keep them standing and getting in people’s way. 🤣
That's right
Beautiful symphony of verses and short verses that invite reflection and contemplation. My favorites are 6 and 7. Excellent work.
Thanks for sharing.
Good day.
I’m glad that you enjoyed them. You always encourage me. Thank you.
Poignant!
Thank you for stopping by.
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I enjoyed this one because it nicely captures that Summer feeling. Nicely done.