My Weary Head
In our wood paneled second floor.
The house is full and silently sweet,
Full of precious family awake no more.
I lay my head on my star-cased pillow;
It is soft and giving. My mind rests in mid air,
Turning thoughts over and around inside,
Thoughts brought to me by another.
Wisdom from heads younger than mine
Has taught me that life is too short
To ignore brothers or sisters, mean or kind,
Or keep my distance as though they were strong.
None can stand alone without rending;
Life’s gales and questions pull every which way.
Wisdom seeks life and life needs attending:
Left out of control it spells disaster.
Should one of this dear family pass on so sudden
That none could or would have foreseen
The tragic loss and awakening death brings
Nor the ensuing turmoil in those unprepared.
Unprepared, ignorant or maybe deceived–––
These quickly learn loss, sorrow and despair,
While those who have learned to lean on each other
May waver but stand strong and persevere.
The days pass quickly and relentlessly.
Each night I lay on my pillow,
Sometimes without a thought or resting quietly,
Other times a tear reveals life’s weight.
Family are a Weight of Life
Worthy many times their mass in gold.
Cherishing, stewarding and reminding them they are so–––
Cling to that thought, and give it also.