Flowers in December

A River Through the Wind

Time is of the essence,
so quickly it moves,
the sands run like a river
through the wind,
a distant memory recalled,
replaced by a new moment
precious and few,
lest we forget to pause
a second to take a breath.

Breathe, take in the day’s light,
carry with you the spirit of night,
know that you won’t see
that moment again,
for in its passing it’s gone
like the sands running
like a river through the wind.

Photos crinkled at the edges,
ancient cards used to remind us
of a time when, an instant
that happened so quickly
but captivated
on a piece of paper
for us to have the chance
to walk through that day again.

Exhale, but with care,
for each moment lost
is a moment replaced
only if you take the time to seek
the essence of the moment itself.
Fragile particles of sand,
running like a river
through the wind,
the time glass if cracked
will remember no more.

© Kristy Tallman – September 2008

hollow…

A silhouette of silence,
a veil to cover the pain,
eyes that see through you,
warmth that extinguishes
as into the shadows she fades.
Beautiful dreamer of lost lives,
lives no one has anymore,
lives only found now
in a more recent fairytale book,
she reads from faded pages,
avoiding the end because she knows,
nothing is as it was before.
A tear will fall as she closes her eyes,
upon the pillow they will fall
in the darkness of night
where she can disguise the pain
that never really goes away.
A silhouette of silence,
a shadow fallen upon the wall,
a tree dances outside the window,
a cool wind extinguishes what once was
as into her death bed she fades,
lost now, not long ago, but already forgotten,
her name never spoken upon the lips
of those who said they loved her,
are they afraid or did they just forget?
The turning of the final page,
wrinkled and worn well before its time,
too early she grew old,
now its too late, the story’s told,
the book has closed, as into the shadows she fades,
a beautiful dreamer of lost lives,
lives no one lives anymore,
lives only found now
below
the hollow
cold ground.

copyright by Kristy Tallman, November 2, 2008

dying….

pretty pictures hang on a wall,
simple furniture scratches and all
a rug that had seen better days
dingy windows with broken panes.

shimmers of light show through
curtains raveling from their hangers
a woman sits quietly in her rocking chair alone
remembering the sounds that were present so long ago

now - silence is all she hears,
the children come no more,
the babies don’t need fed
her husband buried over and over each day

cobwebs covet the lampshades
dust settles like sand dunes
life is gray except on rare occasions
when only one splash of color escapes her…..

when in a fleeting moment a prism of color comes
when the sun catches her tears just right
as they fall from her eyes,
yes - a moment of color escapes her

leaving her soul,
she sighs in relief, one more moment gone,
she counts away the time
by the ticks of the hands echoing in the silent house

the clock that marks
the passage of pain
the passage of sanity
the passage, she prays, of her

soon the house will be empty,
stillness gone because she’s no longer there
unable to recognize what only she heard,
the death of a grieving soul…..

copyright by Kristy Tallman - November 1, 2008

Granted Time…

There is a shadow across the room, his body moves as each breath is taken in and released with such ease. It reminds me of peace, it reminds me of the feeling he gives to me.

His quiet slumber, I wonder where his dreams take him, I imagine I am sometimes there in the corners of his mind but when I’m not - when all is quiet inside of him, I sit in silence watching this man who has come to mean so very much to me.

I am thankful for his existence, for his warm embrace, for his ever vibrant smile that in turn fills me with a great happiness I have longed to know.

My head falls though from time to time in sadness as a reality of life reminds me how short the days are, how quickly things can change and fear rushes through me because I have chose to love someone so completely. What if’s fill my heart, my pulse races in hopes of running from the ghosts that haunt me, the ghosts who still linger so deep within my heart though they can’t be with me.

I would give to him eternal life if only I could share that life with him for it would not be the same without him. The shadow stirs, the blankets move, I long to reach over and hold him but for now I sit here in the corner of my room watching the love I exhale enter his lungs.
I’d stay with him forever if the Gods of this life would grant me such a gift but too I fear as I always will the harsh realities of death. Until death do us part - the vows of marriage tell us - but how could I leave him in death when in life I cannot live without him? How is it I have come to need him so - how have I let my heart fall so completely into his arms?

The night drifts onward, the time ticks slowly by - just for now - just for now while I reflect upon the beauty I have come to own because I am grateful for his love. These are the times when the Gods grant us our time - when moments go slowly by so they can forever be remembered and held close against our chest, so that when the time comes - when in death we do part we will find we have never left each other’s side and my wish to grant him eternal life should he leave me first - granted in my heart and soul as forever he shall be there in the corners of my heart’s love.

My fears of leaving him, should that time come, I pray I have given him these moments so that for an eternity of time I too can remain by his side. I fear the darkness would consume me without him. Love is a strange and wondrous existence in the hearts of those who never take for granted these moments given - the quiet times when shadows move across the room breathing in the life of the other who fills their heart with a happiness only they can.

copyright Kristy Tallman - December 2007

One of These Mornings….

One of these mornings,
I will awaken to a new dawn,
I will find you standing there,
as beautiful as I knew you would be,
You will be waiting there -
waiting for me.

So long I’ve been waiting for you.
Missing you, holding -
so many questions in my heart
just for you.

One of these mornings,
I will awaken to hear your voice.
It will sound as sweet
as it always did - before….
one of these mornings…
one of these mornings…
one of these mornings…….

One of these mornings,
I’ll hold my arms wide open
as I run into yours.
I’ll see you
like it was the first breath you took,
my tears will fall
just as they did that day,
and just as they did the day
you took your last breath.

The pain runs so deep,
I don’t know how I’ve kept it
so well hidden,
but now I can’t stop hurting,
searching, for answers
from a higher dawn.
Its as if years haven’t passed,
as if its that horrible day
all over again,
except this time -
this time I realize….

One of these mornings,
I will cross over
from pretending you’re just away
on some fancy trip,
I will cross over
from forgetting
how much it really hurts,
one of these mornings…..
I will start mourning,
I will feel the grief,
I will cry rivers,
I will feel the pain,
the pain I pushed away.

One of these mornings
I will awaken to a new dawn,
in a new place where truth
will set my heart free,
where I will learn to cry,
I will learn to grieve…
I will learn to mourn
for the daughter who had to leave.

One of these mornings…
mourning’s…
mornings…
mourning’s…

Yeah one of these mornings,
I will awaken to a new dawn
I will find you standing there,
as beautiful as I knew you would be,
you will be waiting there –
waiting for me.

© Kristy Tallman, August 20, 2008