Poem Day

There was an old lady I used to visit. She was a very kind woman who happened to live with her husband and two sons, all of which suffered from severe Schizophrenia. She was the glue that bound them together. She fell into a coma after an intense heart attack. They say it helps if you read to someone in a coma. Sometimes they’ll snap out of it. That’s what I did, but her time had come. I wrote this poem while sitting at her death bed.
Reading over it today, I think I was trying to discuss her two choices. Either die or come back. Then, I asked her to take me with her.
　
　

CRY HIGH MIGHTY GULL

　

Hear the seagull’s cry, a thousand
flutters in my heart.
Where is she? Where has she gone?

Hear a life of tribulation, nestlings
gone berserk, chest without a heart to
fill it.

Cry high mighty gull for all to hear.
Wail of a great lady be resounded
among the waves amid the stars
where feathers touch.

Pierce your call of triumph
great queen of ocean sky.
In these I’ll see your eyes forever.

Toss mighty sword and torch of light
and let another rule.


With second thought and if you will
to prey upon the skies some more, take
up your light and raise your head,
and love me like before.

We shall fly on hand in hand
like sisters of the wind.