You could no longer hear me tell you, how much I loved you. Your eyes clouded and your legs failed. You walked with a crooked limp, but your tail still wagged when we walked in the sunshine, together.
You barked too much, were generally uncooperative, and often nipped at guests visiting our home. You were one of the WORST dogs, EVER.
You were smuggled into the house of a teen age girl’s jacket, after she was implicitly told NOT to bring a dog home. Once our eyes met, and you licked my face, I was under your love spell for the next 15 years.
These were some of the most transformative times of my life, and ultimately, some of my worst. Your little heart never once failed to make me recognize, that asking God, or the Universe, for the best, was not for my best. I will always pray God brings me the worst, so I will always know the best. Thank you, for being my best friend, for the last fifteen years of my life. As I always said, ” I love you more than anyone has ever loved, anyone, ever.” RIP ❤ my sweetest love.
Tribute to a Goddess of Words
It has been two scores, one decade, and a year – minus a day, she slipped away..I was 27 days old..sleeping in my crib..I dream, she came to me, watched me slumber, in her knowing, I too would meet Ted. He would watch tiny pieces break off, break apart, and turn to dust. She whispered to take comfort in her pain, to rise like a flame: Lady Lazarus.
Perfecting the Germanic way, blonde and fair, bare eyes cast to blank sheets of paper, tight lips, and Tulips- soul to fill each line with confessions of betrayed ink. Our pen will never betray us, dear Goddess.
I was 27 days old with her Virgo moon. She passed the baton to my dimpled hand, wrapped my fingers round her pen, blessed my soul with a kinship of a grief too great for any page to balance with genius strokes.
With perfection, you agonized over every stroke. With courage, you breathed your last breath, breathed to death , leaving a weaving of words behind -a little clue of you. Sometimes wished I had the courage too.
Dying to live, under The Bell Jar, I slept awake, I am. I am. I am! inside the world-it passed me by at times so slowly, so cruelly. It passed me with quiet scenes and roses.
I read the pride of words, speaking with deceit, leaking to compete. It sealed my mouth and slit my soul. It crowned my thoughts with a knowing. I watched as emeralds spilled- under the bell jar with Sylvia..we spilled one winter onto pages for a final finale of words. You are forever immortalized under the bell jar…all of the pain and shame remains not, dear One.
You do not sleep alone, I am there next to you, sleeping giant stone.