Sanctuary

Sanctuary

 

People pray to each other. The way I say “you” to someone else,

respectfully, intimately, desperately. The way someone says

“you” to me, hopefully, expectantly, intensely …

—Huub Oosterhuis

 

Today I feel alienated

From my beloved words

~They lie here, embalmed

 

Fat good did they reap~

Grim reaper still came

Brandishing his fearful scythe

 

This week has been a week of losses

And our building door, unmarked

Was tad ill prepared for it ~

 

Hoof inside, it forced year old twins outside

Hastily, with their mom and dad, stupored numb,

To bid final byes to beloved parents accidently torn~

 

Reeling at their horrific loss, listlessly

I crawled to work, lack luster, his Grimness wantonly

Followed me inside, with dripping scythe, satiated ~

 

Bravely she’d uttered, tears held back, “My mom passed

Away at five this morning” ~her lovely patrician face, wan

Her modeling hands, going through the motions, obsessively

 

“She was old, infirm and it’s a relief, yet tell me why

Do I hurt so terribly inside?” ~such emotions churned

In her emaciated hollow insides, ambivalently

 

Life and death are a given

We greet life daily, death

On other hand touches unexpectedly~

 

Nonplussed, at a loss for words, dithering

At day’s spate of losses, I ended my day rejoicing

For things at work had begun to look up, ironically ~

 

 

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