image: google
the ring of the phone shattered the peace
reluctantly i answered ..
i heard the low voice
she had lost her husband to cancer
the churning started inside
why and how questions circled
answers were not there to soothe
as i watched the questions dance
a war was waged in mind by thoughts
my heart was trying to make me realize
the play of dark and light
continues till the last breath
the inside I is never disturbed
the only question remains
who is this I who is watching all the drama?
Is it the I, i call body? or the I, i call mind?
or the I, i call heart? Who is this I ???
no answer to this one
because the question is rising from the I !!!
Like a stream of consciousness to me...I like the 'question is rising from the i...'
ReplyDeleteI dread getting those kind of calls (as it spells bad news) ~ I like conflicting questions, the dilemna when one is swept with the bad news and you are trying to find an answer within yourself ~
ReplyDeleteI think such questions often arise after a death. We can ignore these questions while all is well, but when there is a death we are forced to look death in the eye.
ReplyDeleteSo many aspects of the self that lead to all these questions. Death does make us introspective.
ReplyDelete...the mind of the battle of self, loss, we know we all have to go there eventually down that path. Someday. I am sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteA call like that ... how can you soothe.. is it just to take those first steps toward that pinpoint of light.. a beautiful walk through the essence of what's important in dark and light
ReplyDeletecancer survivor here .... it does raise questions for sure.
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine... Death brings question you'd rather remain ignorant to, but we must answer them at some point and time.
ReplyDeleteThe questions...the churning...oh these situations do shatter the peace as we try to understand and make sense of things.
ReplyDeleteThere is always a little terror in late night phone calls. I'm sorry this one was so awful.
ReplyDeleteYes the true I is the watcher and the questioner. Lovely poem, though sad that your husband's friend died.
ReplyDelete