Loves Lost Memory
a collection of poetic essays written through
the veils of emotion by Blanche McLanahan
::. Section #1 .......::. Section #3 .......::. Section #2 .......::. Section 4 ::.
FRAGMENTS OF TRUTH
We must question our actions and cease the discord,
For if not then the error history will faithfully record.
Our future will read the mistakes we made,
Hopeful survival of our humanity can evolve to procreate.
We need accept our indifference procuring God's word,
And let time mend the recombinant splice with his sword.
DNA alone will unravel the complex mystery of life
And cause end to humanity's pain and all strife.
Primal embryonic atoms stir neath soil in grave.
And I hear the echoes from the past surface now on this day.
Hidden in shadow and echo of death's sand,
Protruding now is the forsaken memory of all we had.
Then in resurrection of whirling motion they blend recreation of the immortal man,
As you come to us now from the depth's and weights blanketing this land.
Ascending moist caverns where darkness tills, in memory of light and the promise eternal.
The roots that once bound you again bring you to life amidst the harsh turmoil.
Permeating diffuse barrier once forsaken, life meets death in one final rehearsal.
As the gray blends beneath veil of transitions curtain a dance foretold as blastema suture mends....
Forgotten links written on the de-differentiate slate,
Curtailing your outcome dictating your fate.
The chamber of concrete encapsulation where our body finds heaven to meet hell synthesize and blend,
Has found equilibrium to regain sufficient energy creating mass where which once had been.
Streams join 'n flow to breed tranquil gardens, patterns and thought blend in pull of the tides.
We straddle on this fence awaiting your return and the love where eternity rides.
We merrily drift midst borders moribund in glimpse of forest through leaves of the mind.
Respectful of these ritual as we march in line of the precession that day you died.
You are of the light........your rebirth for certain,
As color and sound lose appropriate attire, our beliefs to compromise in lieu the final curtain.
Where shrouded memory unveils and imprints the blood and iron's domain.
Thoughts are buried as we were admired and lain.
Fools whose admiration is bequeathed in empty grave.
For herein and beyond three days the spirit arises,
And Love's ascension relieves the darkness and we take flight from this place inside us.
Oh my dear, long it has been since you were lain in this place. And you'd said a remnant of truth would surface. It has.
Time has not healed barely mending the wounds. For the gaping hole in our humanity bleeds profusely every glint of man's soul.
Still friends turn away in fear or out of greed, despite the children's and my pain or need.
My heart exsanguinates painful iron tears, never to echo this dance of refrain.
In time all truths surface as linear velocity progresses to the point of destiny,
And there well centered it meets the curvature of the circle of life and death.
Its beginning finds end, only to begin again.
Your ghost has bequeathed unto me the variables manifest in opposition of life and death,
With enough momentum to move us forward as would be conceived by time.
For millennium man's justice has spoken harshly with forked tongue.
At once seeking some truth only to be claimed by opposition's lies.
Is it not as the double edged sword? We must thank God it cuts both ways.
Though all these years since your death justice has had no eye the children and I found others ways to see.
But now I tremble in fear for the lady forsaken is without a heart and our humanity will not survive.
Let not the children and me forget when has passed 1000 years memory of these days.
For when the light of truth shines once again unto Earth and man from the heavens,
Therein peace shall reign amongst man's thought and his negative intent cannot lie.
We are creatures of thought who feel the intense vibrations of life.
We do not need eyes to reflect those feelings.
Nor do we need ears to measure the sound.
Feelings cannot be weighed nor calculated
As their frequency rides the aether
Permeating into the depths of man's soul.
So it is in remembrance of our actions
Wherein is etched the path from curve to line,
We will seek the symmetry of parallel duality
As we live and suffer from cause these embodied effects of time.
For the circle does not unwind and negative thought forms
Shall be put to rest within the mind.
For it is at center we find the heart
Equidistantly placed to radiant to and beyond peripheral doubt.
At center now love radiates from this creature of thought
Whose paradise is one so conjoined to that of Heaven and Earth.
Now from this heaven that I should hear you speak,
Guiding the children and me in these times
Where hate tugs and weighs heavily these truth ridden burdening our hearts.
From heavens glow we ask that you come unto us now,
That we might see once again the beauty of life on Earth.
For in her winter's cold dark sadness the madness through
which mine eyes see shall be lifted.
Now as the veil falls and the shadows dissipate in this new light
You my dear sweetness shall enable life once again to be set free.
In me, for me, through you I plead
Come unto us and free the soul the illusions of the light.
Release these heavy chains that prevent life's true meaning.
Glean truth should you see the near distant sadness in my eye.
Or might you hear the resounding echo of our cry.
Only then might you know the true sound of my voice,
As it is written in reverberating moments locked in time.
For no eye can see the true image an actor portrays.
No ear can finely tune the singer's blessed song.
Yet, no face can ever hide what is in the heart of man.
Make it speedy this second arising out of your ashes.
The particles flow, colliding, reopening the window of time.
Two faces emerge, their noses pressed firm against time's windowed pane.
.......so bound still are you and I.
Words to inspire eternal time
Reason to justify our immortal climb..
Breath of the wind to flurry life's calm
Birth sets precedent the mortal psalm.
Man to beg pardon neath soil of grave
Fortune the beggar, emotions as thieves rave.
Lost in translation for monetary gain
The pasts salvation claims his name.
Natural tendency weights the scale
Inherent frame now weak and pale.
Death's rage consumes us despite morality
Extinction to empower all humanity.
So be it to claim denial gone wrong
Justice found verse, death sings its song.
Yet whose voice remains to be heard
When our ears betray the ghostly word.
As shadow is cast yond each headstone
The vision tells tale as the spirits roam.
Neath grave in element of earthly soil
Primal atoms stir harmonic and loyal.
Decomposition in soil resurrects matter
Each soul ascends reality shatters.
Transition in life a quieting disgrace
Death's barrier a door to the Cosmic Race.
You said I would find a new garden in which to grow. Yet, the wind blows harsh in this new founded garden. We left our beautiful green valley where your imprint was etched into the greenery of germinating crops in the fields and along the rugged coarse canvas of each mountain that encapsulated our home. A part of me, my heart remains there.........lingering as it will in the incessant darkness.... toil in ignorance of the mind. Longing are we to return and reclaim our lost Love's memory.
I came seeking peace in this place only to find invasion of shadowy illusions evil manifests. Is it a natural occurrence that these things should follow, or is it they seek me in the light? The heart of me does not indulge the distasteful light of Lucifer.Yet, he seems to be lit by the love which shines in my heart. Is it he who is thief of the energies light gifts me, and is it to acknowledge him for the beggar to cease? I do not give of this darkness where evil grows, for I cannot see in its shadow. Distortion blocks my memory and my thought forms begin to fade in this negative light. But once in opposition they are lifted and claim fame during Love's reign.
Now the valley becomes a mirage in the light despite this darkness and I climb the slopes of the mountain to gain heights where the perspective of truth can be known. Though the steep climb exhausts me, I find new hope surging in my blood with the sparks generating new patterns for my memory to create vision. ....in that I can see. It is now I am climbing these heights to return home.
As I near the top and look down from where I'd come, I see the jagged edges of my wandering. I wonder how it was I made it so far, now so near that final destination. As I look up in to the sky the sun is shining, filling my soul with the truth of my origin. I know the last leg will be in temptations tide, where the force which does not wish I fulfill my life's goal tries to pull me back out to dark depths of sea or to the cliffs edge precariously set to fall...........Suddenly I hear music within my head of these new found vibrations, many tones leading to sounds which speak from those dead. And yet, I feel vibrant and alive, clinging as yet to the mountain side, all the while gazing up into the blue sky as it sparkles through line of the sun's rays.
It is only now, at this time, that I look down and see my seeds dropping like pebbles in the wind, planting themselves only to adhere the density of soil and germinate, so that I might see what I am. Gazing through that mirror of time I see the tree who found growth high on the mountain top as the winds during storm lifted it up settling gently on the steep incline where only the stones breed. As my branches cling, though outstretched along the mountain side, I feel no sense of danger, rather one of peace. My leaves are soft, living in spite of the distant moisture. Though they still are drawn high into the air seeking the mornings mountain dew, finality of this moment draws near. The circular lines spiraling down to the center of my being seals the last line in memory of my life. Now that I have let go my seeds the story can be told for the future. Alas, I can claim freedom.
Now in death, or this backward running reel as it flashes my life, I see the constant spinning cycle of regeneration. I know it is the way of things and somewhere down the line my concentric rings will reappear to tell the same story. In death we do not part, we gain the rest of the story. That is all.
Somewhere along the threads woven in the patterns of life it began to unravel. Identity now mistaken was found in line and curve of the fingertips touch or in the circular rings of this tree. Lost amidst the rubble, cumulative to mark the winds drift through the generations that cannot be undone, it flows in water only to rise in heat of the flame. Misgivings grow and gain strength only to falter in time. Where from this root buried in primordial sustenance lies spark of the one element to sustain and once again trigger life. And beneath the soil, or in flow of the tidal oceans depth and hell's fiery curse, regeneration sprouts in the cry and laughter of spring.... It is drawn of the eternal promise life is to be resurrect. Ethereal links illuminate density and darkness as the conductive force generates the message encode for existence, and the sprouts cry breeding of this de-differentiate nuclei. A simple set as logic is founded in root of the complex matter of creation. Here all things spring into the flow of waters and pull of the tide as the wind blows and we climb, once and again to the heights of our being.
There is an internal turn around of these things we do. For as we view from the ladder of this new perspective we know it was inside of us all along. Though our affinity to cling to breath shall fade and the likeness in the mirror on the other side shows a non existent distortion, all the while veiled in the facade of empty dark spaces where fear is generated of the illusions professed, there we are still amidst feelings and in awe of life. An undo wish for humanity to survive is decreed by the prophets who do Gods will and profess these things.....and so they too shall pass. In death it is, we come back to the present where magic of the mind and miracles exist. Our faith consumes us and we return to the truth at once and again.
In life's full spectrum we are lucid of our dreams, and life is good here in the present. The past fades in light of this and the darkness becomes fluorescent as the energy of the universe is unlocked. And when you find you are here and you look around at all the familiar faces, then you as I shall come to know the roots which began to grow so very long ago in distant soil of Earth.
Deep inside we know of this place, temporarily failing to see as our thoughts evolve in refraction of light's alternating pulse from the source. Truths are hidden in the rent shade of the mocking shadows and the colors manifest in lieu of disturbances creating a picture our eyes somehow see, but fail to interpret as the mind twists our tongue. Reason now lost, as the circulating iron pulled against the strengths of our hearts. Therein ones mind doest not reason, for the reality should not see what is hidden in the dark spaces. It is the heart that should light our way, illuminating the distance and steep edge of the cliff we climb. Do not fear. You will not fall as hinds feet give stability. Do not cry or beg for mercy as there is no need. And when you reach the height of your climb, look back in awe of the journey. For your destination is not one bequeathed unto you, it is that of which you asked. Rest, take leave of the weakened knees, so again you can walk climbing the mile.
Move on forward in motion as you lay foundation and way for all of those to follow. Do not tell trail of your being, as they will know who doth tread before them. Praise God for showing the way. Realize it is the God inside you, the one who is always there and sees, allowing you sight of which only our thoughts do realize.
For held in the fingerprints or imprint of the cartouche is the path you must tread. Be not overwhelmed by your task in life for that is minute of the things of our creation. Love and let live, sharing all the wonders your eyes captured. Generate good thought out into the circuited winds of time. Know always, that just as the leaves of the tree fall to the ground, so too shall you fall from the weight you put upon time.
The time is not until the winter to precede the thaw has moistened the ground and your seeds embedded solid begin to germinate in the spring to follow. And as their roots take hold praise your journey as the sprouts of joy cling and reach to the skies with growth of a new tree. It is one that looks in mirror of the self for remembrance of you. Lay down and rest in it's shade for in your decomposition your seed will mature and then one day spread its seed.
Life is a circle. The never ending story. A story written in time which reflects the affect life's distortion bleeds refrain unto our true humanity. Lifetime's children are spun out of golden threads and will create the past for that which we are. And when their time has passed, then we shall all once again come to be in the light of our home.
And does not this pain of birth find one unwilling to let go? It is to cling and nurture for our own comfort sake? Yet, we must let go if they are to find their garden in which to grow. All seeds blow in the winds of time to find the streams where thoughts converge in the soil of being, laying down and planting solid ones feet into the ground. Tiny seedlings who do not suffer the winds harsh dictation shall become brittle and falter in the storms. They will not strengthen to withstand the winds of time. The one who bends in the winds is strong as any grand oak might long or any man might wish for his son. It is in the letting go we each come to be. And we must let go, not fearing they will not reach their destiny. For if it is just to break their heads above the soil , or to be plucked to feed the crow or deprived the sun's nourishment on a cloudy day, it is just meant to be. And this root to spread in time, it is not lost, and will come again seeking the place from which we all came. In this cyclic return of being is where the temperament of time cannot trample on or undo the way of things.
We are never to die and our death is not an illusion as it marks our place in time. It is the time inflict on our space here on Earth which is in disequilibrium. It is in dis-conjunction of rhythms harmonic and as the light shines leading the day and the moon reflects darkness for our way, then we see that times illusion has displaced the energies of light and it is in the shadow of the wave we only fail to see the truth. In time it will be the light and in the day it is night.
So be it that in our space here on Earth we shall inflate with memory to gift the truth of our origin. Our face in the mirror as sound and light synchronize will show the lines in our eyes and the curves of our jaw which defines the sum of things. In those eye's prism will be reflect all into the mind and heart of man. We will see who and why we are and no longer fear this place we live inside us.
No we are not dancing fools, but the graceful ballerina whose moment was only frozen still. And who in the thaw of the winter's cry suddenly began dancing in the spring, twirling and spinning on the tips of her toes. She is smiling now, radiating the pleasure of motion. It is one never ending where in cycles of a life-form, time marks the place in line and curve leaving each individuals true identity with their imprints etched in the cartouche or sands of space and time.
We are creatures of thought who feel the intense vibrations of life. We do not need eyes to see nor ears to hear.
And this tree of life, how it grows so near, yet so far.
I long to feel of it, to take hold and never let go.
Yet, just as the leaves fall to the ground,
So too do our lives fall from the weight we put upon time.
ROOTS PLANTED FIRM
Our roots so entwined......its Love's simplicity giving strength to our children forever weaved into patterns of our soul. Simple is this love we found, now from this root the children grow. Complex creation is of human intent.........never in our time together did we find such notion of motivating torment where life as death might fail to ferment.
Of our union this surging blood shed fetalis blastema, the primal beats only to flow of our union in equilibrium. Together, you and I, became as one. And from this unification, our DNA bound to venture and carry us into the future left behind the family distortion and disturbed emotion where absensia denies one of self. Our children now carry this love into the future for all of mankind.
O' how loves simplicity gives strength to grow
Weaved into patterns of the soul.
Complex creation is human torment
Life as death fails to ferment.
Surging blood sheds fetal blastema
Primal beats rhyme in equilibria.
Disturbed emotion content to rave
Purpose found reason in seas chaotic wave.
Abrupt absentia denies one of self
Humanities genes quiet hidden on the shelf.
Primordial sustenance meant to decompose
Locked now forever in effects presuppose.
Mitochondrial remnants are key to the mind
Awareness of relation surfaces in time.
Nuclear reminiscence is reactors catalyst
Stimuli de memoria stood blindly to resist.
Poetry forsaken to write the close
Prophetic tongue elucidates in handwritten prose.
For the seeds to germinate and sow
Soil in grave ferments begins to grow.
Gravity springs the season for each sprout to cry
Magnetism propels growth, all things then die.
Waters descend in a constant vertical motion
Purging the winds horizontal viscous notion.
A perpetual ritualistic motion God only knows
Gardens of human thought, the true beauty is life's rose.
The streams of mankind shall flow eternal
On Mother Earth and in heaven fraternal.
As waters pour forth flooding brain barriers in time
Forbidden knowledge seeps into the shallows of the mind.
And as our DNA builds from the root and unwinds
Each passage is document in continuum of space and time.
A synthesis of cumulative forgotten matters
Surface in death's ascension and our reality shatters.
Now we come to be and finally know
Love's memory in covenant the root and tribe of our soul.
"Fear not, For behold; One would come to loose the seven seals", the Elders did saith,
"And the Tribe of Judah The Root of David hath prevailed."
IN TIMES PAST
Cleaving the spindle found asymmetric the divide,
The genes mislaid no longer side by side.
But there go you and I
Still as the wind flowing in the tide.
You on one side the geometric web,
The children and me outgoing its ebb.
Of this nature thus assumed we must abide
On these waters now we ride....
Alone and adrift.
I had been seeking justice for the one you'd said killed you,
Yet you haven't died, so how can I find blame or gain this so called Justice?
Is it not the command "thou shalt not kill"
Literally stating the fact, that one does not die?
What has caused our fear of death and its oppression?
As you speak to me from this new founded place I hear through illegible vibrations,
And I see without my eyes. The natural rhythm soothes me and diffuses every atom of my being.
Time is the oppressor eluding man to the origin from whence he came
And to that of his eventual return.
Replication in likeness is that which does not heed
nor beg pardon for misunderstanding.
Genetics to calculate change and record transference of humanity,
who has somehow forgotten reason and is therefore unable to justify inevitable change.
My dear, it is apparent that where you exist the time factor has no bearing.
Cannot you see all of time from your perspective and is it not a circle?
Oh not one of a cyclic nature, which can move either direction seemingly
Where one stands on a present point it moves forward, as in paradigm of past and future.
Rather, is it not one where you've become centered within the great sphere, and from
this center the ALL of this circle is equidistant to any and every when in time
Or where in space making the continuum an illusion within context of a circles peripheral doubt?
Let There Be Light
Velocity's speed diffusing the energy unto the mass
Is drawn in of the center, equidistant and right angles pass.
60 degree momentum on the 90 degree axis draws the magnetic monopole
Absorbed in revolutions is energy's potential.
Internal atomic number to reflect in concentric ring
Gravitational dysfunction now equates the external identity.
Kinetic energy shines for it now equals the potential mass
As velocity and frequency are minus Planck's constant interference.
Hydrogen the basis of light, energy and matter
A number of its rungs to climb or descend Balmer's Ladder.
Frequency finds division times the element
Velocity in multiples current calculations a predicament.
Linear speed of particles pass electromagnetic waves
These energies run parallel as exchange turns the other way.
Gravity in excess where electro-madness blinds
These bands are shadows and the light is hydrogen's rhyme.
Planck's number the fraction running on the negative a sign of inequality
1/2mv2 should suffice to fracture and confirm added energy.
The mass is content in shuffling the confined rest
And gravity an anomaly bares weights the permeable borders detest.
Additions of energy will fracture the ferric domain
With energy equal to the mass no rest energy is contained.
So now as the L2=EM
No shadow exists, nor birefringence to require a second glance.
Now you've found that the light of which you are has no speed or motion.
In its omnipresence you have no need for its velocity or angular momentum to find your place.
You are there, everywhere.....back at the center of our true origin.
You've no need for ears, for in this light all knowledge is known.Verbal relations are non-existent and the sound is in the light.
You are all knowing of the things we in this dimension, where opposition dictates, must ask to receive.
You've gone beyond the rest mass that holds us within this domain. Your death has fractured the bonds of light's optical properties,
and the echoes reverberating the strings vibrating need to create sound.
One sees disturbance with the E=mc2
No allowance is made for the frequency not heard.
A velocity squared to equal circumference of the mass
Must incorporate mass density and color if velocity is the test to pass.
Reciprocity which must not be confined
So all light's colors find speed and frequency so inclined .
As light penetrates the convex prism of the atoms nucleus
Reflection as concavity internal inverts, so color once again equals light in origin of stimulus.
And light squared enters the mass with proclivity for man
To find C2 to be his times energy demand.
The harmonics of the sphere depend on light's energy
To reciprocate velocity in concentric rings alleviating gravity.
Hydrogen sets precedent to guide in steps to follow
A priori in retrospect for basis in root of the matter
The energy penetrates the depths hidden behind walls to conceal
The internal number to equal the external dimension during time's ordeal.
Time is four cubed to equal the mass
Where the energy of the L2 is freed and time does not exist.
In these images you transmit, it is shown that time is equal to four, ninety degree quadrants of any mass.
And as the light squared within its current speed there was simultaneous concentric return of a sound frequency.
And if time is slowed by humanities evolutionary wave, light's potential would be lost and momentum enslaved.
Sound, light's constituent in mean of the parallel duality mirroring the line,
Must consider equality in total curvature's angle and speed if we are to constrain time.
There can be no degree to suffer in the shadows cast or to that of any angular indifference.
So now as the interference in life is released,
Evolution no longer confronts the impasse,
Where time's dogma can be freed .....Alas!
Now as your ghost bequeaths to me these things unknown,
Is it now in this place of space and time unto us they be shown?
At the onset of your death it was believed vengeance was mine.
That I should fight for justice until my last breath or dying day.
And since which time, the tones now seed new knowledge
Speaking of morality and its lessons to discern.
Is it in forgiveness for your murderers thrill gifting you release?
And is this that for which I must seek?
What you relate does not come in words.
I see geometric shapes as the light of which you are unfolds to endear.
How doest understanding come from such simple images.....
and are they reflection now of your mind's insight?
For is it not in this light where gnosis is hidden surfacing when bolts seek the mind.
All these years since your death it has taken to temper my will,
To instill knowledge of that which is right and wrong.
Taking for granted that birth should give me right of passage,
and yet far distant in this thing called time will I find relief the burden
Of which you'd proclaimed your mother took your right to live.
For it has been that fragment to be uncovered which has shifted my view,
As it was not your mother, but her sister of such likeness who chose to slay you.
Though your mother has passed many years hence,
Her coming to me in sleep of my dreams was to ask for my forgiveness.
Though I sat seemingly awake on edge of the satin sheet,
She came proclaiming her guilt asking reprieve though not of this deed.
In projections of thought filtered by presence of her mother's light,
I could see not image of the murder nor her guilt within that sight.
Oh, I know how they were angered by their mother's gift to you,
The inheritance of her lands they thought to them was due.
Your mother was simply jealous of our Love's silent bond
Treating us harshly with one face, and the other only to astound.
Yes, I found that new garden you so stubbornly insisted I find so I could grow.
Barely had I placed you in that grave that I learned of life beyond death.
In that instant I found others knocking at my door in hours of sleep.
Gaining certain pleasure from all they did speak
Translating as best I could the wonders they too would teach.
Fata Morgana is not an illusion of the mind,
In writing of those words knowing you were out of time.
Reason stood to offer that others might come,
As we are all connected when unite we are one.
“Beyond Love’s Letters”
Why have you shown your face to me?
And how is your image the same it used to be?
You haven’t changed in all the years since your death,
Decomposition pays no mind to your corpse or last breath.
Is there something you misplaced, a remedy left undone?
Or is it the equation unfinished, out of control and on the run?
Your face on the clock was quite a surprise.
But it was the Roman numerals you pointed out that made me realize.
Your message came through clear, quite refined for our time.
Telling me to go behind it, let me know it would all unwind.
Yes time is the factor, its breadth though on a plane,
Must have dimension if truth unbeknownst should reign
Four cubed offers the depth and understanding for the fifth.
A place where the numbers unwind, not one inversion is missed.
Helical twists fixed in the third dimension confounded time with genetic precision.
Calculated errors wound tight in the clock
Where the frame shift mutants of these bases have stuck
Strange how the mind sees what is not?
In visions of dead men whose genius time forgot.
I read your message, now the time draws near.
We must blend into the frequency
As the weak force shifts the atmosphere
Clever you to use the Roman signs.
It took me back to that era
To the hatreds of their designs
I know we took a counterclockwise turn,
Now time runs backwards, so it is here the future we must discern.
The Hebraic script written from right to left signifies the reversal
Of their languid shadows set adrift.
You were born one hundred years too soon, simply out of time.
But your memory seems to be saying that you are still alive.
Unfinished business which is always the case,
Time the great deceiver and it’s illusions we chase.
I saw you on the street winking as if to say goodbye.
Your picture in that same coat and hat assured me it was you,
O’ this I could not deny.
What a trickster time is as we pet the head of the cat.
Knowing all the while we held the tail, as there you sat.
Somehow I knew it was you standing that day on the street.
When you smiled as I turned your spirit did retreat.
Did you come to taunt me as did Fata Morgana?
Then fade into the colors and dissipate in the water?
Or like the mirage rising in heat of the day
You smirked and grinned as your pictures still portray.
I thank you for sharing your hearts secret desires.
Even though “Love Letters” on the shelf
Would have been all I required.
Then in “Letters to Solovine” relativity became quite clear.
You’d reconciled gravity in 1951 with a unified field the same year.
These equations you shared, how gracious you were,
And to offer Tesla’s insight during the time his life procured.
Are your spirits aloft in the clouds, two great minds together,
Hidden and secured now behind death’s shroud?
O’ I know of that place, I visited it twice.
I saw you there and you said, “God does not throw dice.”
Though I was born too late to have known you
Somewhere in time I know we’ll meet,
Behind Death’s bartered door
Or perhaps once again on the street.
These things of which I speak are difficult to describe
For I do not hear them with my ear or see them with my eye.
They feel as someone else whose mind and emotion had been.
As if these thought should be thought, the emotion felt again.
And you my dear have much to say about the remnant now uncovered,
In truth behind your death and that of yet another.
You and I now must speak through the silence of our bond.........
For with the music of life my soul has been out of tune and my heart cannot feel.
- Blanche McLanahan