There were many rehearsals for this day.
A dear friend, some years ago, fixed
his blue eyes on mine. 'Burying your father
is a profound experience, ' he said, then
...
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Daniel, this is a very special poem you wrote. I can't wait to share this with Jean. Thanks you is not enough!
I enjoyed reading it! blue eyes, feeling, dark woods, singing, stroking! great! so mild as always! replace one word - misspeled: so sick, he did NOT want to talk.
In lieu of a comment: ”We are born only to die. That's the only thing we can be certain about. And sometimes we do practice how to say goodbye. But the rehersals always fall short of the actual performance... And when it is to be done, it is done... But the memories of those rehearsals, The moments when we never thought about the rehearsals The moments of joy, of union, of the feeling of being a family remains in our minds like a beautiful heart sculpted from an old rock Beautiful in it's final form but decayed...”
Poignantly sad poem of the loss of a loved father. Sensitively written with a clear message to make the most of our lives.
Other rehearsals have been scary. Having affection between family members is fantastic definitely. This is very nicely penned family poem shared in wise motive.10
Absolutely beautiful. I wish I could write a brilliant review of this, but anything I could say would detract from its poignancy. Thanks, Daniel