This vase was given to me by my friend Loren. She got it in Egypt on a trip with a group of interfaith leaders from this country. She took wonderful slides of that trip. When she brought me this vase we sat out on my porch and watched the whole thing, I was so moved. Loren and I talk about big things. We haven't seen each other in almost 3 years. I miss her. I haven't had room for big things recently, and that is sad. I need that room back.
Today would have been Bob Stowe's 60th birthday. In his honor I'll post a poem I wrote for him and then I will post some portraits of today. I've decided to dedicate May to portraiture. So here is my first day of trying.
Mourning The Weight of Stone
For Robert 9/13/04
Saturated in sadness you crawl
out into the early August sunset,
golden light glowing over summer.
You wince as your knees ache
your heart cries out.
“What’s been taken from me?”
Slowly you pull your head up.
Your back begins to roll
forward, upward and your legs,
not wanting to, do accept the weight.
the weight of your pain.
the weight of your soul.
the weight of the lack of time.
Your knees bend slightly
you begin to walk, carrying
stone, digging holes to bury
rock in an old symmetric form.
You sit upon this stone
bench to rest your weary heart.
Your head bows, silent, your fingers touch.
the weight of your pain
the weight of your soul
the weight of the lack of time.
Sad poem
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