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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1453195
A son visited me in January. Then he was gone, he only visits now in dreams. A Sestina.
Guardian Angel Signature



You jogged back out into January's freezing cold
night air. Leaving behind brave words of death
just hanging there to ring forever
in my head. "I am not afraid
to die" you said. Then you were gone
forevermore; you only visit now in dreams.

Cherished memories and frequent vivid dreams
prevent my heart from turning icy cold.
For your tender touch and hug are gone,
stolen from me the night of your death.
At least I know you were not afraid.
Your fears have vanished now forever.

Only peaceful visions rest with you forever.
Fate took you away from your own dreams,
and left behind those of us who are afraid,
to jog alone out in the freezing cold,
haunted always by your words about death:
"You're afraid of death, Mom. You should have gone

to Uncle Chris's funeral." Now, Son, you are gone
too! His namesake, my Chris, gone forever!
What cruel twist of fate this demon called death,
crashed into our lives, crushing all of our dreams.
Leaving trails of sorrow, footprints out in the cold
snow, and January's to deal with and not be afraid.

Oh! Merciful God, I cowered from you, afraid
of your mighty powers for I had not gone
to a beloved Uncle's funeral that day in the cold.
Oh! Powerful God, I thought you punished me forever.
Never bringing me peace, and stealing my dreams.
Burdening me with guilt I would take to my death.

By wrongfully thinking I had caused your tragic death.
I spent years suffering, withdrawn, alone and afraid.
Then gradually you began appearing in my dreams
Bringing me joy and peace, at last suffering was gone;
putting an end to my punishing myself forever!
Pulled closer to the warmth, finally in from the cold.

Even though death separates us while you are gone,
I'm no longer afraid, someday we'll be together forever.
'Till then visit my dreams, come in from the cold.






Word Count 492
Merit Badge in Poetry
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Awarded for the wonderful poem 'The January Visitor'. Congratulations for winning the february round of 'A Tale To Tell' contest.

Merit Badge in Inner Strength
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For your fortitude in bereavement and your eloquent writing.

A Sestina
Of French origin, the sestina was invented by the troubadour poet Arnaud Daniel and is considered one of the more difficult forms to write.

The Sestina is a non-metered, non-rhyming poetry form, using six words which repeat as line-ending words in set sequential order in each six-line stanza. In the closing envoi, or tercet, the six words repeat again – three of the words as line-ending words and the other three each in the interior of envoi lines.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chris was born January 28, 1966
He died January 16, 1997

Cause of death - blow to the head...left undetermined.


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